


I Am a Rock, I Am an Island

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-01
Updated: 2004-01-01
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS: Innumerable through Season 7SUMMARY: Jack and the gang follow the trail of a mysterious stranger who kills Goa’ulds and the larva carried by the Jaffa with an unknown toxin, and then cures the Jaffa’s immune systems.  Jack’s interest in the mission takes a personal turn.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 FanFiction - I Am a Rock,I Am an Island

# Chapter 1 - Jaffa Kree, Jaffa Free?

“Teal’c, what do you make of this?” asked General Hammond. 

SG-1 gathered around the video screen in the Control Room to view the MALP transmission from P2X-808, a hot, dry, and dusty looking world. Two Jaffa with staff weapons pointed at the MALP looked it over.   Their expressions showed mostly curiosity. 

“That’s a new one,” Colonel Jack O’Neill exclaimed cocking his head towards Teal’c.  “What happened to ‘shoot first, ask questions later?’” 

“I am as puzzled as you, O’Neill.  These Jaffa do not seem to perceive any serious threat from the MALP.  Perhaps they are aware that its technology is . . .” 

“Lame?” interrupted O’Neill.    “Never stopped them from shooting up one before.” 

The MALP’s camera continued to pan around the gate on P2X-808.  A small settlement of simple dwellings could be seen.  Outside, children and adults were engaged in games. 

“Snakeheads away, mice will play?” queried O’Neill.  

“I do not see what mice have to do with anything, O’Neill,” Teal’c responded stone-faced. 

Daniel, Carter and Hammond stifled chuckles. 

“Letting their hair down while the Goa’uld is away.   Oops.  Guess that analogy doesn’t work for you so well either, Teal’c,” shrugged Jack. 

Daniel rescued a puzzled Teal’c.  “I don’t think so, Jack.  The gate guards seem almost nonchalant.  Teal’c, do you think it’s possible that these Jaffa are free from Goa’uld rule?” 

“It is possible, Daniel Jackson.  Perhaps something happened to the Goa’uld they serve, and no other Goa’uld has claimed them as yet.  I am not familiar with their symbol.  I believe we should investigate this world more closely General.”  

“Agreed,” said Hammond.    “Major Carter, let’s prep the UAV.   Assuming we like what we see after reviewing the additional data and recordings from the MALP, we’ll send it out.” 

“Yes, sir,” Carter replied crisply.  “I can have it ready in one hour, sir.”  

* * * 

One hour later, General Hammond ordered Sgt. Walter Davis to dial up P2X-808.  The mostly invisible presence of the sergeant yielded to his occasional moment of glory:  barking out the engagement of each chevron. 

The team looked at the further MALP footage with increasing interest.  These Jaffa made no effort to interfere with the movement of the MALP.  They did act free of the Goa’uld.  They appeared to be going about their daily lives with a sense of joy and ease that none of them could remember seeing from a whole community of Jaffa before. 

“You know guys, if I didn’t know better – and come to think of it, I don’t – I get the sense that maybe what we’re seeing here is a recent liberation.  The initial euphoria before the ‘what do we do next’ stage,” offered Daniel. 

“They’re high, Daniel?” arched Jack. 

“Kind of, Jack.” 

“Teal’c, do you notice or, for that matter, not notice anything which should raise concern?” General Hammond inquired. 

“General, something unusual does appear to be afoot.  Either we have found a Goa’uld who treats his Jaffa humanely -- a proposition I think highly doubtful -- or we may have found freed Jaffa who are potential allies in our war with the Goa’uld.  Major Carter, would it be possible to enhance the MALP pictures for a closer view?” 

“Sure, Teal’c.”  Carter zoomed in on several Jaffa men playing with young boys, all shirtless. 

Teal’c’s eyebrow rose, and his face looked quizzical.  “Major, can you enhance the picture to show their abdominal regions?”  

“I see what you’re getting at Teal’c,” Carter said wide-eyed. 

Teal’c unconsciously put his hand over the pouch where his prim’tah once had been, before he became dependent on Tretonin for his continued survival.  

“General, these Jaffa do not appear to carry symbiotes any longer.  Their pouches are scarred over.  They may present great hope for the future of all Jaffa if they have rid themselves of the Goa’uld larva.  Perhaps they have a supply of Tretonin or something else.  General, I would like to visit this world as soon as possible.” 

“Teal’c, l know this looks exciting,” General Hammond took a cautionary tone, “but we’ve been tricked before.   This could be a trap.  Remember Urgo’s looping picture of paradise?  Let’s wait a little bit and see what the UAV shows.  Major Carter, you have a go to launch the UAV.” 

Minutes later the UAV was gone.  It whizzed through the gate.  The gate guards did not try to fire at it. 

“The UAV is fully operational General.  We’re focusing reconnaissance on a loop of twenty miles around the gate.  So far, the planet appears perfectly habitable.  Good oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide ratios.   Mostly grassland conditions near the gate area.   Land rapidly transitions into a deciduous forest relatively nearby.” 

“Whoa, Sam,” interrupted Daniel, “can you loop the UAV back towards the forest?  I thought I saw the top of a building in the upper left corner a few frames ago.” 

“Sure, Daniel.  It will take a minute.  Hold on.”  Sam remotely maneuvered the UAV into position.  “You’re right.  I’ll take it in closer.” 

“The Goa’uld have definitely been here at some point, sir.  That’s the top of a pyramid.  And there’s another off to the left of that,”  noted Daniel. 

“I don’t think soooooo, Daniel.  That’s a big honkin’ mothership,” said Jack. 

“Shall I take it in closer, sirs?” 

“Don’t look at me, Carter.  The General signs UAV requisition slips!” Jack deferred. 

“Yes, do, Major.  Nice to know that you’ve actually read one of those budget memos recently, Jack.” 

“Holy cow! Graffiti.”  Jack was agape.  

The rest of SG-1 and General Hammond leaned in closer to the monitor, all looking startled.  

“I believe it is, O’Neill.  It says ‘Death to the Goa’uld’ among many other less polite expressions.”   Teal’c was nearly grinning. 

“And check out the pictographs too,” exclaimed Jackson.  “Those would appear to be representations of the symbiote . . .” 

“Daniel,” Jack interrupted to avert a long winded explanation of the obvious.  “I think we all get the universal sign for ‘No snakeheads!’  General, if it’s alright with you, I’d like permission for SG-1 to visit P0X-whatever as soon as possible.” 

“Permission granted, Colonel O’Neill.” 

* * * 

Thirty minutes later, SG-1 returned to the control room in desert camouflage with full gear.  

“I have a question, Jack,” Daniel asked.  “Seeing as we’re gating right into a settlement, what exactly is the point of the camouflage?” 

“To demonstrate our overwhelming coolness, Daniel.”  Carter broke into a weak smile and rolled her eyes at Jack’s crack. 

Hammond returned to business.  “Alright, gentlemen – and I use the term loosely as to some (looking at Jack) – and Major, let’s get on with this.  Sgt. Davis, redial P2X-808. 

O’Neill playfully parted the event horizon with a flourish of his free hand before entering.  It never failed to amaze him, this most incredible amusement ride.   By the time he reached the other side, he would be all business.  The rest of SG-1 followed. 

On the other side, the two gate guards met them with weapons aimed.  “Kree.”  

There we go with that “kreeing” again thought Jack.  Daniel’s “peaceful explorers” speech inexorably followed.  While Daniel rattled on, Carter, Teal’c, O’Neill and the Jaffa kept their weapons trained on each other. 

Teal’c took the next step.  He chanced lowering his staff weapon and greeted the Jaffa.  

“Tek matte.  I am Teal’c.  There are no Goa’uld among us, nor do we serve the false gods.  My prim’tah, like yours, is gone.  We come in peace and brotherhood on behalf of free Jaffa and the Tauri.” 

“Tauri?”  One of the guards approached to examine Teal’c more closely.  He did not sense the presence of the symbiote in him or among this group.  Barely audibly to SG-1, the two guards whispered.  “Did not the stranger tell us to consider an alliance with the Tauri if they should come?" 

“Guys, I think it would be a goodwill gesture to lower our weapons now,” suggested Daniel. 

As SG-1 lowered their weapons, so did the two Jaffa guards.  Jack’s version of weapon lowering, as usual, was not quite as complete as the others.   His fingers, rarely unengaged in some activity, remained loosely wrapped on the trigger, a precaution often justified by past experience.  All breathed a collective sigh of relief. 

Jack left it largely to Daniel and Teal’c to find out what had happened here.  O’Neill, having steadfastly refused to learn more than a handful of Jaffa terms and not being much of a talker, smiled pleasantly and milled about looking for danger hidden under any dust ball.  He found none.  

After Jack admitted to himself a lack of that “it’s about to hit the fan” feeling in the back of his neck, he wandered amongst the children and joined their games.  His childlike nature stood in stark contrast to his military rank and position.   

Major Sam Carter browsed his way.  Until Teal’c and Daniel reported their findings, she had little to do.  The Jaffa men, much to Carter’s chagrin, did not treat women as equals and would not talk freely to her.  So she mostly watched Jack, inwardly delighting in seeing him relax with the children.   

Years ago, Carter’s feelings for O’Neill were romantic.  It was, of course, forbidden fruit.  Acting on it would be practically impossible without either giving up the job they ultimately would admit they loved more.   Over time they both also realized that kind of love would be destructive to the team.  They had both moved on without ever acknowledging the turnabout directly.  In truth, Sam thought the romantic feelings probably persisted longer than they might have otherwise because it was forbidden.   Not that either Sam or Jack had fallen in love with anyone else.  But Sam had strong attractions to other men:  Orlin, Martouf, Narim, and briefly, Ambassador Joe Faxon, from the Aaschen fiasco.  She had moved on, or at least was open to the possibilities. 

Unlike Jack, Sam’s social life outside work, though limited, centered on other adults.   Jack’s social life revolved around his team and kids.  He spoke at local schools about the military and the possibilities of exploring space, undoubtedly with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.  He played hockey and other sports with them.  He donated time and money to children’s organizations.  

No, in the end, Sam Carter reminded herself, it was not romantic love.  If the last and most painful of Daniel Jackson’s deaths had shown her anything, it was that the four of them had become family.  They all loved each other and would die to protect each other.  This, unfortunately, was a weakness that the Goa’uld had exploited against them on more than one occasion.  But there was little to do about it, except to adhere to the military command structure and show her C.O. the respect he’d earned.  

She did wish a bundle of children for Jack someday, however improbable it seemed now.  Sam herself was far from ready for children.  She loved Cassie and her niece and nephew, but she loved science more.  She could not visualize herself as a day in, day out mommy anytime soon. 

Sam’s reverie and Jack’s playtime were cut off by Daniel and Teal’c’s approach with two Jaffa.  One looked not long past the age of implantation.  

“This is She’nac; he is twelve.  This is his father, Dan’ac.  They have a most interesting story to relate to us.  And they have volunteered to submit to any testing, medical or otherwise, to help us understand the death of their prim’tahs and the apparent regrowth of their immune systems,” Teal’c related. 

Carter could not contain herself.  “But Teal’c, Daniel, do we know how yet?  Do they have a source of Tretonin?” 

“Patience, Major Carter,” Teal’c counseled.  “There is much we now know and much more to be learned.  Dan’ac asks us to join him in his home so that we may be more comfortable while he relates the tale.”  

# Chapter 2 – A Strange Path to Freedom

Settled comfortably around a table in the hut of Dan’ac, SG-1 listened to his long strange tale. 

  

“We were in the service of Kek until about three weeks ago.  The Goa’uld was off world at the time with most of the warriors.  Perhaps twenty warriors were left behind, here and at the temple, along with the families of the warriors.  Only two of us were guarding the chappa’i, Dor’an and I.  

  

The chappa’i opened.  We aimed our weapons in readiness.  A small stranger cloaked in the simple robes and hood of a priest holding a plain walking staff entered.  We instructed the stranger to drop the staff and raise his hands.  He did so.  In a voice that sounded like our god’s, he spoke.  ‘I am but a simple wanderer.  I have important business to conduct with your master.’ 

  

At this Dor’an chuckled.  ‘As if our god would have business with the likes of you.’  I was not so sure what to make of it, though.  The voice unnerved me so like Kek’s was it.   We had not been told to expect any visitors but still, it was odd.  

Dor’an took the lead.  ‘You will see our god only if and when he desires it, not when you demand it.  You will come with us.’” 

“How original,” Jack muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. 

“I restrained the stranger while Dor’an kept his staff weapon aimed.  The stranger offered no resistance.  Indeed, the stranger’s presence was one of disquieting calmness and control, as though we were the prisoners.  

Dor’an roughly pushed the stranger into a secured outbuilding nearby.  The Temple of Kek is a full day’s walk at least.  Since Kek was off world and few were there, we decided to interrogate the prisoner here first.  

We chained the stranger’s wrist shackles to the wall, again without resistance, and began our interrogation.  Then we had the first of many surprises to come.  Pulling back the hood of the cloak, the stranger was seen to be a woman.  Short haired, muscular, but most definitely a woman.  No weapons were found upon her.    

She was unafraid of us.   Dor’an questioned her repeatedly.  She revealed nothing, not even a name.  She only repeated her initial statement that she had business with our master.  She would speak only with Kek and warned us that we would regret not taking her to him. 

Dor’an took this as a personal challenge, I think.   He had high ambitions to someday become a prime to Kek.  He was insistent. The stranger took numerous blows from Dor’an’s gloved hand.  I say this now with great shame.  I took no delight in harming a woman.  Yet Dor’an made no progress in getting her to speak.  We found ourselves at a crossroad.  Between her eerie Goa’uldish voice, and her self possession, we began to worry if there was any truth to her claim that she had business with our master.  We left her shackled for the night.  We hoped that hanging from her wrists for a night without sustenance might soften her stance.  We were in no hurry for our master was unlikely to return for several more days.  

  

We examined the stranger’s staff.  It appeared to be no more than a simple walking staff.  The stranger had, in fact, exhibited a slight limp.  Later that night we passed the staff amongst the elders to examine it in case it was a weapon of some sort no longer commonly used.  They saw no threat from it. 

The next morning came our second surprise.   The night sentry reported all quiet.   Yet when we opened the door, we found the stranger sitting cross-legged on the floor unshackled.  The bars that had covered the rear window were on the floor too; as if to say that she had stayed by choice.  Dor’an and I were, I confess, unnerved. 

She calmly rose and spoke to us, again in that voice like Kek’s, as if she were in control not us:  ‘What no breakfast?  I will have to speak to management.’ 

Dor’an prepared to strike her, but held off as she continued.   Her tone was one of impatience.  ‘It is clear to me Kek is off world.  Let me speak to the eldest Jaffa here, and perhaps I will cooperate.’    

Dor’an was put out by her insolence.  He went to strike her face with the back of his armored hand.  He even laughed as she raised her arm to brace against the impending blow.  It never fell.  She caught his hand in motion and stopped it dead.  Before either of us recovered from this surprise, she had twisted Doran’s arm around, grounded him and seized him by the neck.  

She repeated her request to be taken to the elders.  She promised no harm would come to us -- her captors!  She also promised she would not attempt escape, just as she stayed of her own volition through the night. 

It was then, I admit without pride, that Dor’an and I reconsidered our position.  This woman, with the voice like our god, was a force with which to be reckoned.   Even though we sensed no symbiote, we decided to accede to her request.   Dor’an, I think, was happy to escape from his embarrassment and went to seek the elders.  Then came the third surprise.  

Dor’an returned to the outbuilding to report that three elders, including my father, were gravely ill in the healer’s tent.  Their prim’tahs had fled their bodies and were dead.  The elders would be dead soon too.  The stranger said she could cure them if they wished.  Although we did not believe this possible, we considered her offer.  The thought occurred to us that these elders had examined her walking staff the eve before.  Here they were on their deathbeds.  We had handled it too without ill effects, yet the coincidence of their sudden illness was troubling.” 

“Wondering if you were next, no doubt,” Jack interjected. 

“Perhaps so.  In any event, we decided to take the stranger to the healer’s tent.  She addressed them respectfully and calmly, again not at all as if she were a prisoner.  

But her message was new.  ‘I offer your people freedom from the parasites who enslave you.  The Goa’uld you serve is a false god.  You are old enough and have seen enough to know this true.  I will heal you if you pledge yourselves to freedom.  All I ask in return is that you bring me before your false god so I may show you the truth of my words.  All who wish to live as free Jaffa shall live.’ 

The healer was livid.  ‘What false magic is this you promise? No Jaffa can survive for long without his prim’tah.’ 

The stranger was firm.  ‘My words are truth.  Choose freedom or death.  Either way your bonds of slavery will end today.’ 

Dor’an and I did not believe the elders would waiver in their resolve and devotion to our god.  We had seen no glimpse of it before.  Yet when she spoke to them, they acknowledged the truth of her words.  They agreed to try her cure.  She would not administer it in our presence.  Only the healer remained with her and the elders.  I did not know how she did it, but within the hour they began to improve.  

The stranger remained in the healer’s home under guard for several hours.  By afternoon, the elders’ pouches began to scar over and their bodies became their own again.  The elders and the healer then engaged in discussions with her that I have only guessed at since.  I believe they enlisted in a plan to liberate us all; together they bravely took the next steps to our new path of freedom. 

Dor’an was particularly shaken by what occurred, more so than I.   I did not relish the senseless violence I had seen in service of Kek.  But Dor’an saw his chances of becoming someone important evaporate before his eyes.  He insisted on interrogating the stranger to discover what she had done and how.  The elders opposed him arguing that a bargain struck could not be unmade.  Dor’an had made no bargain, however.  He claimed the right to challenge the stranger.  The elders could not refuse.  For while they had agreed to the stranger’s plan to rid the Jaffa of the Goa’uld, they had made no promises as to her safety.  Nor had she asked. 

The stranger startled us by accepting Dor’an’s challenge as though she had desired it herself.   She was perhaps three-fourths his height and half his weight.  ‘In the battle ahead, one can be only friend or foe.  Even among those who accept the cure, you will need to seek out those who are deceivers.’ 

The challenge took place immediately before all in the settlement.  Only simple weapons were permitted.  Dor’an had a training staff; the stranger had her walking staff.  I do not know how to characterize her style of fighting.  She was swift and agile as compared to Dor’an.  At times she seemed to fly as she kicked and swung.  The end came faster than I would have believed possible.  Dor’an was defeated.  

He asked no mercy.  She offered him a last chance to renounce his false god and be free.  He exclaimed he alone would know the glory of Kheb for his service to his god.  She broke his neck.  

She addressed us all:  ‘Jaffa, your prim’tahs will not survive the day.  You 

must choose now between freedom and death.  You have my word that your false god will die, as surely as the prim’tahs have.’ 

Her words were true.  The sickness was spreading as all this occurred.  The elders openly denounced Kek as a false god who had enslaved us by trickery, and encouraged us all to accept her offer.  Few chose Dor’an’s path of death.  The woman and the healer cured all who so desired. 

With the help of the stranger, a plan was hatched to dispose of Kek.  Upon the return of Kek’s mothership there would be feasts and family reunions.  These would provide the perfect opportunity to spread the toxin, permitting quick termination of all remaining prim’tah and – the stranger promised – the Goa’uld.  

The elders came to a decision at this point.  Upon assurances from the stranger that the Goa’uld could not be resurrected by sarcophagus (she had told no lies to date) and that enough of the cure was available for all willing Jaffa, she was asked to leave.  She praised the elders for their foresight.  ‘You are wise to avoid replacing one false god with another.’  Indeed, she lost the Goa’uldish voice at this point.  Her true voice was no different than yours or ours. 

She withdrew from the further proceedings, although she did not leave our world quite yet.  She was to remain hidden unless her help was truly needed.  It was a virtually bloodless coup from there.  The toxin was swiftly spread; the cure was available to those who renounced Kek.  Kek never knew what took him down.  Those that died with him were mourned as family even though their choices were different.” 

As Dan’ac’s story neared its end, Daniel interrupted to inquire if Kek’s host had survived.  He had not. 

Dan’ac finished his tale.  “Only the healer and the elders saw the stranger again.  She checked to make sure there was cure enough for those who elected freedom.  She advised them that she had heard of Jaffa rebellion from system lords elsewhere.  She said that some had allied with the Tauri, and we should consider such an alliance should the opportunity arise.  

My father tells me she asked for nothing more than information about chappa’i locations where she could continue her efforts.  These were happily provided to her, along with offers of volunteers to help.  She declined those offers.  ‘I walk this path alone,’ she said.  She slipped out through the gate unnoticed while celebrations occurred.”  

  

# Chapter 3 - What Next Kids?

Sam was nearly beside herself.  “Do we have a sample of the toxin or the cure?  Do we know its long term effects?  Can I speak to the healer?   Teal’c, this could eliminate your dependence on Tretonin.” 

Daniel was full of a million questions too. 

Teal’c was almost giddy, for Teal’c anyway. 

O’Neill sat back impressed.  He tapped his fingers as he spoke.  “Let me get this straight.  One woman with a stick waltzed in and did this.  Sweet.” 

“It is, indeed, O’Neill,” Teal’c agreed.  “Master Bra’tac will want to know of this.  I think we may have found a crucial weapon in our war against the Goa’uld.” 

“More like a lethal weapon, and I think we just missed her,” murmured Jack as he tilted his face and drummed his fingers on his cheek deep in thought. 

Daniel turned and teased Carter.  “From the look on Jack’s face, you’d think we just lost the missing link.”   Carter gave Daniel an annoyed look before she began mentally mapping out her scientific investigations to follow. 

Daniel’s mind wandered elsewhere.  Although the host had died, was it possible the host could have been cured as the Jaffa had been?  Was this akin to Thor’s hammer?  Or even simpler?  Had that option even been considered?  

“Sir, I suggest we report to General Hammond immediately and request a medical team to come out in the morning.”  Carter sought to refocus the group as she often did when attentions wandered. 

“Okay kids, let’s get back to the SGC for the night.  We’ll follow up in the morning.  Teal’c, you’ll help me mind my manners before my elders tomorrow, right?” 

“I will do my best in the face of daunting odds, O’Neill.”  Who said the big Jaffa didn’t have a sense of humor? 

That night back on base, O’Neill pondered the day’s events as he wrote his report for the morning briefing.  As Daniel had observed, O’Neill’s curiosity was piqued by the stranger.  After all, technology was not exactly his strong suit.  Their ultimate mission was to kick Goa’uld butt.   Well, it was to procure technology and make allies that could help kick Goa’uld butt and defend against a growing list of alien foes.  This stranger had something they needed.  Heap powerful medicine for sure.  Maybe some gizmos and doohickeys too.  Who knew what other secrets?  

Jack kept mulling it all over.  Walks the path alone, huh.  Got to respect that.  Jack’s main role these days was to cover his teammates' rears and maintain some kind of military discipline over his eccentric team of scientists and non-coms.   And while Jack had been grateful for having his six covered many a time, he had rued it as often, as when someone else was hurt doing it.  

But what bothered Jack as he wrote his report was nothing so deeply philosophical.  Instead, he was frustrated that he had nothing to call this stranger in his report.  She had to have a better moniker than “the stranger.”  That was a little too existentialist for Jack.   How about Jacqueline Chan?  Lone Rangerette?  How could she have spent over a week on that rock with no one learning her name?  That was Jack – focused on all the important information.  Hell, even if she lacked camouflage-wear, she sounded like she could meet SG-1’s coolness standards.  

She needed to be found, and Jack would make that his follow up mission.  It was pretty much the only task left to fit Jack’s talents.  Carter would be busy trying to backwards engineer whatever she and Janet found.  Daniel would be yakking up the social ramifications for the Jaffa.  And Teal’c? 

Jack feared that Teal’c might want to stick around P2X-808 awhile.  How could he not?  A new colony of free Jaffa had been found, a whole new brotherhood for Teal’c.  There might be many more.  Jack sadly felt the days with Teal’c at his side would become shorter in number with this and similar developments. He would always be a comrade-in-arms, but eventually Jack knew he would leave to fight side-by-side with his own people.   He’d been by Jack’s side for many years now and his inside information had been invaluable.  But after all this time, Teal’c’s insider information was dwindling and Teal’c certainly knew it.  And if this cure was real, he wouldn’t need to depend on the SGC for Tretonin anymore.   Jack hoped that part was true.   It was precarious for Teal’c, and Bra’tac also, to be in the field while dependent on Tretonin. 

All in all, Jack sighed to himself, it would be a while before this mission would close out and he could pursue the stranger herself.    If the General even agreed to that as a mission.  He would, of course, thought Jack.  The Jack O’Neill charm had its uses.  Pouting could be an effective alternative, too.  And there was potentially much more to be learned from the stranger herself.   Getting the gate addresses and information she obtained from the Jaffa elders on P2X-808 was high on the list of Jack’s priorities on their return mission. 

They debriefed early the next morning with Dr. Frasier present.  

Jack’s report was succinct as always.  Details were the business of the rest of the team.   “One mysterious Kung Fu fighter.  Dead prim’tah, healthy Jaffa, and one less badass Goa’uld.  And not a single injury to SG-1.”  

Jack yielded the floor to his team for the details.  The General and Janet listened with great interest and patience.  Meanwhile, Jack doodled a sketch of the faceless stranger with the words, “Wanted:  Alive” printed above. 

General Hammond opened the floor to consider what should happen next. 

“Obviously this technology – the toxin and antitoxin if that’s what we’re dealing with -- are extremely significant, General,” offered Major Carter.  “I’m hopeful that we can identify and/or replicate either or both from examining the dead larva, the Jaffa and samples of the cure that the Healer still has.  If not, the source would be critical.  We just won’t know until we get samples under the microscope.” 

“Would it be more effective, Major Carter, to analyze what samples can be found here or to try to find this stranger?” asked General Hammond. 

“We’re calling her Caine for now,” Jack informed them all.  Seeing blank looks, he went on “Kung Fu, very cool 70’s show starring David Carradine, he walked his path alone.”  He added the name Caine to his sketch. 

“Umm, okay, Jack.” Hammond pushed them back towards business. 

“Well, General, I did speak briefly to the healer.  She expressed doubts that this woman . . .” 

“Caine,” interjected Jack 

“As I was saying, the healer was not of the impression that ‘Caine’ understood the chemistry involved.  She may simply be a courier.” 

“A Goa’uld-butt kicking courier, Carter,” interrupted Jack.  He was entering his infantile mode as the briefing dragged on. 

“What exactly did she say, Major?” General Hammond inquired. 

Carter’s response to the General was almost whispered, in the hopes that Jack had zoned out.   “Well, according to the healer she flat out said something along the lines of ‘I’m a warrior, not a scientist.’”  

O’Neill’s head jerked up with a snarky smile told Carter he was not as spaced as he pretended. 

“So, I take it then, Major Carter, you think we should gather samples and analyze them in the lab first.  Then we should know if we need to find the source of this – what should we call it – medicine, poison, antitoxin?  If we can figure it out ourselves and replicate it, I don’t see much point in attempting to follow this stranger.” 

  

“Caine, General.”  Jack could be relentless. 

“Okay, Jack,” the General brushed aside Jack’s silliness.  “As I was saying, Lord knows where the trail could lead given the time that has passed.   But in the event we can’t duplicate the toxin or the cure, it would be wise to follow up on the addresses ‘Caine’ obtained from the Jaffa on P2X-808.  Teal’c and Jack, you’ll inquire as to those.  Major Carter, Dr. Frasier, you have a go to get started right away on your analyses.”  They all gave appropriate military assent. 

“Anyone else have anything to say here? Doctor Jackson?”  General Hammond noticed that Daniel had been uncharacteristically quiet. 

Daniel took his turn.  Daniel’s face suggested wheels were spinning in his head.  “I’m not quite sure yet, sir.  This all seems so bloodless and simple.  It just seems like there’s got to be more to it than what we we’ve heard.  I mean, we’ve got just one woman in what sounds like beggar’s robes with a simple staff.  Yet there was the ruse of the Goa’uld voice, the freeing herself from shackles and bars.  The toxin and antitoxin must be sophisticated.  And regrowing an immune system in a day?   Don’t you think we should find this stranger?” 

“I agree with Daniel Jackson that we should follow the trail of this Caine,” volunteered Teal’c.  There may be many more Jaffa and others prepared to join the fight against the Goa’uld to whom she may lead us.  Whether the simple approach she takes is but a mask for more sophisticated efforts underneath does not seem to be of much relevance.”  

“Very Marshall McLuhan, Teal’c.  The medium is the message,” parlayed Jack.  Teal’c was clueless at Jack’s reference. 

“All right, SG-1, I’ll take that prospect under further consideration.  Meanwhile get back to P2X-808.  Take your samples and run tests.  Colonel, you, Teal’c and Dr. Jackson work on forging an alliance with these Jaffa and following up other leads to the stranger.  There’s also a mothership just sitting there that I’d like to have.” 

“Yes, sir.  Why don’t we trade them beads for a mothership?” joked the Colonel. 

“Jack,” the General continued, “I’m serious.  We can help these people rebuild their society with materials and technological help.  Why not trade it for value?  Moreover, it is the SGC’s mission to obtain such technology.” 

“Forgive me, General.  But after our fun experience with the stolen glider and our awesome nation rebuilding efforts in Iraq, I think we might be sorry if we succeeded.” 

“I must agree with Colonel O’Neill, General.  The Jaffa are a proud people who will accept only limited outside intervention in their internal affairs.  While I am sure we can gain access to the mothership for study, these Jaffa will not – and should not -- be asked to turn over such a valuable means of self-defense to us.  Should they do so, they would be dependent upon us for their defense against the Goa’uld.  We cannot provide them with anything comparable.” 

“I understand your point gentlemen.  See what you can get anyway.   After we get some sense of the science involved from the Doctor and Major, we’ll discuss what to do next.   Dismissed.” 

# Chapter 4  - More Questions than Answers

Mop up on P2X-808 was quick, especially for Jack.  Teal’c and Daniel’s remaining involvement was largely socialization, not Jack’s department.  Truth was these Jaffa had not yet organized themselves enough for real negotiations to occur.  Carter, Dr. Frasier and the medical team took copious samples and obtained some of leftover cure from the healer.  After three days they were ready to head back to the lab for analyses. 

Back at the SGC, Carter and Dr. Frasier had plenty to keep them busy.  Daniel hovered over them anxious to see the results.  Teal’c didn’t quite hover but checked in frequently at the lab; he was holding out high personal hope for the future of the cure.  Jack was bored and restless.  He was forced to catch up on interminable paperwork as relief. 

After a week the scientists presented their findings.  There was good news and no news.   

Carter reported:  “The cure retained by the healer appears to operate in a way similar to what scientists hope to find from stem cell research currently going on here.   It is not Tretonin-based.  The cure does not, as I would have expected, derive solely from Jaffa genetic material.  It does partly consist of Jaffa stem cells along with specific DNA instructions for the Jaffa immune system.   But we have no clear idea what the rest of the substance is, not even whether it is animal or plant based.  

The dosage of the cure required to complete the process is miniscule.  Our sample alone would cure at least ten Jaffa and still leave plenty for research.  The cure is applied through patches that look like tiny pieces of scotch tape placed inside the prim’tah pouch. 

I think we’re seeing some very clever bioengineering and gene splicing in this cure – way beyond that which is being performed on Earth.  Sir, with permission, this is outside my expertise.  I think we need to hand this to the bio-engineers as soon as possible.   Given time, they might be able to replicate or synthesize it. 

As to the toxin, there is no real news as to what killed the larva and the mature Goa’uld.  The carcasses were entirely desiccated.  There are traces of various elements that might have been part of whatever did this, but nothing we could put together to replicate.    Moreover, the blood work on the cured Jaffa and the dead host show no traces of a toxin.  The only possible clue we have is a substance we found on the dead host’s clothing.   It resembles the external casing of something we’ve seen before, Machello’s bugs.  But whatever was inside didn’t work the same.” 

“What do we know about how the – let’s call it a ‘bug’ pending discovery otherwise – was spread?”  queried General Hammond. 

“Not much, sir.  Lacking live samples, we can only guess.  If it’s like Machello’s bugs, then they have to be released from some sort of container.  They could spread from person to person contact, and could survive for some time on inanimate surfaces before dying.  There is some suspicion that the stranger’s walking staff was a source.  The elders had touched it and became ill.  But the two guards had also handled it and did not experience symptoms until substantially later.   The one difference might be the guards wore gloves.  Once released from the staff, maybe it spreads through skin contact only.   Bottom line, we’ve got nothing but suppositions as to how the bug works and no real clue what it is.” 

“Thank you Major.  So as I understand it, we have a cure for some Jaffa.  Right now we don’t think we can’t replicate it, but we might be able to given time.   Alternatively, it might be more efficient to seek out the source.  Can I assume from your material to regrow Teal and Master Bra’tac’s immune systems should they choose to take that risk?”  General Hammond asked with optimism. 

“Yes sir.  And I believe the risk is minimal as compared to dependence on Tretonin.  This regrows the immune system; Tretonin does not.  We have no reason to think that the cure won’t be permanent.” 

“Sam, do we have any reason to believe the cure is specific to the bug?”  Daniel asked. 

“No, Daniel.  In fact, I doubt it.  If a Jaffa simply removed the prim’tah and killed it, I believe the cure would work as well.  We would need a volunteer to confirm this, but it would be a helluva find if it did work.” 

“So, if it does work, even if we never find the ‘bugs’ that were used, the Jaffa can still be healed and refuse or reject prim’tahs?” Daniel queried. 

“If we can replicate the cure.  That’s still a big if, and it may take years,” Sam cautioned. 

Daniel’s mouth opened moments before words came out, his thoughts obviously still coalescing.  “Wait a minute, Sam.  What you’re saying is the killer and the cure might be separate.  This woman walks into town, unleashes a toxin, and then offers life or death depending upon rejection of the Goa’uld as god.  She could give them the same choice without the toxin.  Is that choice or blackmail?” 

Jack was annoyed.  “This is war Daniel.  These people are enslaved.  They’re being used as hatcheries for evil incarnate.  If they can’t see the Goa’uld for what they are, are we supposed to let the bad guys win?” 

“Jack, I’m just raising the moral question here.  I’m not answering it.”  

“With due respect, Daniel Jackson, I must agree with Colonel O’Neill.  Although I yearned to leave the service of Apophis for a long time, it was not until I believed I had found powerful enough allies in the Tauri before I dared choose to do so.  To end this cycle of enslavement, she may need to use coercion to show the Jaffa proof that freedom is possible, and that the Goa’uld is not a god.  To expect this woman, a non-Jaffa, to attempt to administer this cure on a strictly volunteer basis is beyond plausibility.  Her actions are reasonable.  In the end, you must remember it was the Goa’uld themselves who genetically modified the Jaffa to carry their young. 

You also fail to consider what would happen to those Jaffa who choose the cure and freedom if those who do not are permitted to live.   Their loyalty to the Goa’uld would surely bring slavery and death to the Jaffa again.   Under these circumstances, it is not objectionable to coerce the choice of good over evil.”  

“Maybe Teal’c.  I’m just wondering if there might be another way.”  

Jack got up.  “Enough Daniel.  Right now, we don’t have one sure way to accomplish what this one woman has.  General, why don’t we aim straight for the source.  The eggheads can do their thing while we do ours.” 

“Agreed, Colonel.  Based on what we know, this woman may be a powerful ally.  She already opened the door with her stranger.  Let’s hope the trail isn’t too cold already.” 

# Chapter 5 – The Trail Warms Up

The SGC found nothing of interest on the first seven planets they tried.  Three more weeks had slipped by.  

Daniel was less than optimistic.  “Has anybody considered that just because the stranger asked for gate addresses and information from the Jaffa on P2X-808 doesn’t mean she used them?  We could be searching for a needle in a haystack.” 

“Sometimes you have to turn over a lot of rocks to find a diamond, Daniel,” sniped Jack.  

At last, on the eighth try, the MALP showed a picture similar to P2X-808.  P0X-986 was more forested near the gate.  But otherwise, the gate was lightly and, it seemed, casually guarded as on P2X-808.  The MALP again was met with curiosity and not destruction by the gate guards.  No signs of settlement were present near the gate, however. 

The General ordered UAV reconnaissance.   A temple structure was located within 30 miles of the gate.   It was pockmarked by blasts of some kind.  As on P2X-808, the UAV moved undisturbed through the area.  No efforts were made to shoot it down.  A small settlement outside the temple seemed indifferent to its presence.  And again, the people seemed too at ease to be under Goa’uld rule.  SG-1 was given the go ahead for additional reconnaissance and possible first contact. 

* * * 

“Déjà vu, all over again, General,” summed up the Colonel at the debriefing following their visit to P0X-986. 

“Not entirely,” objected Daniel.  “While the end results were similar, things proceeded a little differently on this planet, Jack.” 

Daniel commandeered the floor to relate what they had learned on P0X-986. 

“For instance, this time the Goa’uld was on world when the stranger arrived.  She was taken into custody immediately at the heavily guarded gate, and then taken on a 30 mile forced march to the Temple in a single day. 

Again she was interrogated.  Apparently, her responses were mantra-like:  ‘I will speak only to he who falsely claims to be your god.’  During one of these sessions, the Goa’uld’s First Prime wondered at the purpose of her walking staff, and used it to strike her down at the knees.  Right after, witnesses described lightning bolts shooting from the staff killing him.  

On the first day of her capture -- faster than on P2X-808 -- the Jaffa who had captured or been near her began to fall ill.  No connection between her and this illness was realized.  

The Goa’uld brought her before him to punish her for the death of his First Prime and to question her.  The guards say that she suffered the ribbon device as a brave warrior.  She refused to answer questions about whom she was or why she was there.  When the Goa’uld demanded to know how her staff functioned as one of his guards held it aloft, she said ‘If you’re sure?’  Then the staff discharged into the guard killing him.  ‘You asked,’ she told the Goa’uld before he bore into her with the ribbon device again.” 

“Forgive me for interrupting, but what kind of moron would have picked up that staff after what happened the first time?” asked Jack incredulously. 

“It’s been scientifically proven, Colonel, that boys cannot resist playing with sticks,” Carter said poker-faced. 

“Anyway,” Daniel continued, “she next proceeded to bait the Goa’uld:  ‘You are no god if you are afraid to face me unshackled.’  The Goa’uld laughed at this, and pawed her body; he promised to show her the true power of her god, and told all how she would soon serve him as a host.  But first he would wait until she had recovered from the ribbon device so she could fully feel the pain of becoming a host.” 

“Been there, done that, have the t-shirt,” Jack interjected, nodding his head ruefully. 

Daniel continued.  “She apparently spat and told him he would be dead first.  He laughed at her.   But the Goa’uld did not return under his own power.  He soon fell violently ill and collapsed.  His personal guards were also suffering.  

  

While the guard watching the prisoner left to report she had returned to full consciousness, the Goa’uld’s personal guards were bringing him to the sarcophagus.   Before they got him inside the box, the Goa’uld fled the host.   When the suffering guards turned their attention back to the prisoner, they found her free of her shackles with her staff aimed at them.   ‘I have killed your false god.  You will die next of the illness you now feel.  I will cure only those who renounce loyalty to the Goa’uld.’ 

Feeling their symbiotes dying, the Jaffa briefly consulted.  The Second and Third Primes attempted to avenge their God.  She took them out with blasts from her staff.   The remaining guards offered no resistance. 

She gave the cure to the remaining guards who renounced the Goa’uld.  When they were well enough, they together went to the settlement to show the others what she had done.  The Jaffa took the Goa’uld’s head on a post.  

We know little of her movements after this.  Again, she seems to have sought out the healers and the elders to help.   As before, she gathered what stargate addresses and information about them she could.  She rejected efforts by some to follow her.  ‘Your false god is dead.  Seek and accept no other in his stead or you will be slaves again.’” 

After Daniel finished, Sam reported finding nothing additional on the toxin or cure.  She speculated that the bugs used on this planet seemed to act more quickly than on P2X-808.  “While the evidence is only anecdotal, it seems this Goa’uld suffered a faster death than Kek.  Perhaps the toxin can be delivered in varying dosages or accelerated purposefully.   It may even have something to do with touching her directly.  I wish we could get our hands on the stuff.” 

“Be careful what you wish for Major.  Do we know what this substance might do to us?  Remember SG-1’s prior experience with Machello’s bugs.  I think we should be extremely careful if we do find a sample and follow strict biohazard protocols,” the General cautioned.  

“Yes, sir, certainly.  But my gut tells me that even if these are related to Machello’s bugs, someone worked out those kinks.” 

“That would be good Sam.  I don’t relish any more visits by the men in white!” Daniel unpleasantly recalled his stay at the asylum. 

Sam raised another concern before the briefing ended.  “What about the Tok’ra, sir?  Should we not inform them of what we have found?  Unlike the Goa’uld, they live communally.  Something like this could wipe them out in no time.  We don’t know if there would be any way to protect them.” 

“And this is a problem, Carter?” sniped Jack. 

“Colonel O’Neill,” the General began using his disciplining voice, “while I fully acknowledge that the Tok’ra have not always been forthcoming with us, we do have a formal alliance with them.  And they have pulled your ass out of the fire on several occasions.  We should at least warn them of the threat.  Beyond that, I’m not sure there’s a helluva lot we can or should tell them now.  Perhaps we should provide them with the coordinates to the planets the stranger has visited or might visit based on the addresses the Jaffa shared.” 

“Yes, General,” agreed Carter and Dr. Jackson.  “They could at least avoid those places until we know more,” Carter added. 

“Over my dead body!” Jack responded with utter contempt. 

“I agree with Colonel O’Neill, General Hammond,” said Teal’c. 

“Gentlemen, explain yourselves.” 

“You give those addresses to the Tok’ra and their first order of business will be to find and execute Caine.”  Jack looked exasperated that this was not obvious to all. 

“Why, Colonel?” Hammond asked. 

“To save their own bleeping asses!  These bugs can’t tell one snakehead from another.” 

“That is correct, sir,” chimed Teal’c.  “The Tok’ra routinely undertake suicide missions to further their cause.  This toxin is a threat to them as much as to the Goa’uld.   They would not hesitate to kill this woman to protect themselves.  I remind you how anxious they were to sacrifice the lives of their own and SG-1 on Netu.” 

“You don’t think they would be satisfied just to avoid the planets we identified as probable targets?” the General asked. 

“They would not, General,” Teal’c explained.  “Consider that she likely possesses coordinates to many more worlds than we know.  The Tok’ra could meet their destruction at her hands anywhere.  Given an opportunity, they would not take that risk. They would feel compelled to locate her and strike her down.” 

“But don’t the Tok’ra themselves have a similarly acting poison?  The one they wanted Dr. Jackson to release at the summit of the system lords?”  inquired Hammond. 

“Yes, General.  But they would not willingly suffer the risk of its use by an outsider,” Teal’c clarified. 

Daniel nodded his head to signal a shift in his opinion. 

Sam grudgingly nodded at Teal’c’s words, but her concerns were more personal.  “General, we at least owe it to the Tok’ra to tell them of the existence of this threat.  It might allow them to take some precautions should they inadvertently cross her path.” 

Jack was unconvinced.  “Major, we risk death by biohazard every time we go through the Gate.” 

“But Sir, with all due respect, this is a specific known risk.  It could wipe them out.” 

“Oops.” Jack rolled his eyes up, not thinking of the hurt Jacob’s death would cause to them all, especially Sam. 

“Enough, Jack!”  The General was becoming irritated by Jack’s juvenile humor.  “I agree with both viewpoints.  We have a duty to warn the Tok’ra.  The question is how to accommodate everyone’s interest.” 

All eyes turned out of habit to “there’s got to be a better way” Daniel Jackson.   “Uh,” he hesitated, “I think I have an approach that might accommodate but not completely satisfy everyone.” 

“That’s our Daniel,” Jack sported.  “How much will it hurt us?” 

“Well, actually, Jack, I think you’ll like this one better than the Tok’ra.  We tell them what’s going on, but not where.  If they are concerned, they can provide coordinates to us to see if a planet is on our visited or potentially visited list.” 

“Oh that will really piss them off!”  Jack was delighted, and mimicked a basketball free throw scoring. 

“Major Carter, I’m inclined to adopt Dr. Jackson’s approach at this time.  I’d also like to take some time before we meet again to consider whether we should share samples of the Jaffa cure with the Tok’ra for analysis.  They might be able to help replicate or produce it.  But given their generally bad relations with the Jaffa, I’m not sure we should pursue that route at this time either.”  Teal’c nodded in agreement with the General’s comfortable in relaying this information to the Tok’ra?” 

“Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to deliver this message myself,” Jack volunteered enthusiastically.  Sure, the Tok’ra had pulled his ass out of the fire on more than one occasion.  But how many of those times were caused by Tok’ra misinformation, half-truths or flat out deception in the first instance.  He didn’t wish them actual harm but he reveled in the thought of holding something over their heads for once.  “Any problem with that Major?” 

Sam shook her head no.  She walked a fine line in disputes like this, with strong allegiances to the Tok’ra not shared by the others:  Jacob, Jolinar, Martouf.  And this was not the type of dispute that Carter often won.  She was a laboratory scientist foremost, not a strategist.  And ideas to protect the Tok’ra were bubbling in her head. What if these bugs were similar enough to Machello’s to fake them out as had been done to protect Teal’c from death and the others from insanity?  Maybe a simple injected protein marker would protect the Tok’ra.  She desperately wanted a sample of the bug.  If a protein marker fooled this bug, how long after injection would it work?  Would the symbiote survive as it had in the Jaffa, or would its entanglement with the central nervous system of the host prevent this?    Machello’s bugs hadn’t killed the hosts, but these had.  Was that by design or not? 

Suddenly Sam blurted a thought aloud.  “Could this be the work of the Tok’ra and their poison?  Remember the Goa’uldish voice we heard about.” 

“I don’t think so, Sam.  If she were, she’d be dead too,” Daniel remembered that no antitoxin had been in existence at the time of the summit.  

“Maybe they’ve since developed an antitoxin of their own,” Sam said with hope. 

Jack dismissed Sam’s idea.  “If they had an antitoxin, they’d have taken some major strikes at the system lords with the toxin by now.  I can’t see the Tok’ra going out of their way to cure the Jaffa as Caine has.” 

  

“I’m sure we’ll get a sense of that possibility after Colonel O’Neill talks to them, Major Carter.”  With that, General Hammond dismissed them. 

# Chapter 6 – The Trail Broadens

Days later, SG-7 picked up the trail of Caine.  They related the episode on P3R-693.  SG-1 was invited to join the debriefing.   

Colonel McGee reported:  “The stranger arrived purporting to be a simple traveling merchant, with a sack of colorful scarves and trinkets.   The gate guards found no weapons upon her and thinking her harmless made no effort to restrain her at first.  She was followed of course and her presence reported to the First Prime.  Apparently the Jaffa guards grew bored quickly.  They had little interest in her trading of cloth and trinkets with the women, and permitted her private time with them.  

  

During this time, the stranger met a bitter woman whose sons had been killed by the Goa’uld for deficiencies in their service.  The stranger convinced her to try the cure.  No toxin was used.  The woman removed the prim’tah and killed it.  Within an hour, the woman’s pouch began to scar over and she regained strength.  Word of this was passed among the women, and many agreed to accept the cure if the stranger could fulfill her promise to destroy the Goa’uld.  It was not long after that the guards, at last, picked up on what was afoot.  The stranger was brought before the First Prime.  

As before she did not resist capture.  Nor did she talk to the First Prime, except to offer the Jaffa freedom from the false gods and to request to be brought before the Goa’uld.   She absorbed the First Prime’s blows and repeated use of the pain stick for a while, repeating her offer between each torture but revealing nothing.  Then at last she asked the First Prime to stop.   She informed him that he and all the Jaffa present had less than a few hours to live if he did not bring her before Goa’uld immediately.  He did, in fact, feel a sickness within him, and took her before the Goa’uld.  While he knew his god well enough to not expect salvation from his sickness at the hands of this woman, he at least hoped for revenge. 

The Goa’uld was typically arrogant.  But when the ribbon device failed to give him answers quickly, he did not prolong her torture.  His senior Jaffa were quickly succumbing to a crippling illness.  He did not know what it was.  She did.  If what she said to the First Prime was true, to protect his power base and maintain control he had to act fast.  

A mature larva was sent for immediately and placed upon her.  It would not enter.  It squealed and shuddered as it slithered upon her.  Unexpectedly, it leapt back into the hands of the Goa’uld, then rose and plunged into the back of his neck.  He fell to the floor writhing as the two snakes inside wrestled for control of the host.  Then both Goa’ulds fled the body and died on the chamber floor.  

Meanwhile, the Jaffa present were dropping like flies, the prim’tahs fleeing their pouches.  While the shocked Jaffa watched in horror, she slipped her restraints.  The surviving Jaffa swear that her staff flew by itself across the room into her hands.  She reiterated her offer of freedom or death.  Their god dead at her hands and they themselves dying, most selected freedom. 

Before she gave them the cure, she requested information about the Goa’uld’s activities and stargate addresses.  These were given.  Shortly after dispensing the cure, she was gone,” concluded McGee. 

“Anyone but me see a little S&M thing happening?” Jack jested. 

Daniel rescued a puzzled Teal’c.  “What Jack’s wondering about is that it seems that the stranger – Caine – keeps putting herself in a position to be hurt.” 

“I see what you mean, Daniel Jackson. However, I think it more likely it is a strategy.   As an outsider working alone, it would be difficult for her to evade capture for long.   By offering little initial resistance, she quickly puts herself in position to infiltrate and infect the Goa’uld.  She eliminates much reconnaissance.  The Goa’uld will bring her before him.  It does not sound as though she has total indifference to punishment, but she seems to accept that which furthers her plans.” 

“Guerilla warfare, in and out fast.  Use the enemies’ predictability against them,” Jack added. 

“There’s something else, too,” Carter added.  “If the bug is spread as quickly as it seems, the time for the cure is short too.  If she’s not in and out quickly, there would be a lot of dead Jaffa.  That doesn’t seem to be her intention.  And one other thing, we don’t know what she is.  She may not even experience pain the way we do.” 

Whatever the stranger’s motivation might be, SG-7’s further find was good news all around.  Many more Jaffa were free and prepared to rise against the Goa’uld and ally with Earth.  Motherships and gliders were becoming available as support in growing numbers.  It was working out nicely for the SGC.  Goa’uld were being eliminated, along with their larva, in relatively bloodless coups.  No SGC personnel were in the infirmary as a result.  

All in all, General Hammond was happy to follow up in search of more allies, but on further consideration could not justify too much of a special effort to find the stranger.   The SGC’s priorities were changing with the circumstances.  Her results allowed a shift in focus to coalition building, intelligence gathering, and acquisition of defenses.    

But Jack was not a General.  And while he saw the big picture, coalition building was not his thing.  Not that he wasn’t forced to try on occasion.  And this kind of intelligence gathering wasn’t about SG-1 doing recon in the field.  This was “yadda yadda” information gathering.  While it was nice not to see Daniel near death for a change and the other team members happily occupied, Jack was restless for some action.  

Jack argued the case for continued and speedy pursuit of Caine.  “Look, as good as she may be, sooner or later she’ll run into a situation she can’t walk away from.  If that happens, we may never find the source of the bug or the cure for the Jaffa.  Or that nifty walking staff.”  Inwardly, Jack also had some concern that if the SGC dropped the pursuit, Teal’c might leave to pursue it on his own. 

“Jack’s right,” agreed Daniel.  “We should keep looking.”  The problem was the trail grew broader with each new find, with ever more potential addresses to follow.  The General could not allow SGC resources to be strained on that singular effort.  The Joint Chiefs wanted bigger guns and shields.  Liberation of the Jaffa was beneficial, but really, wasn’t that ultimately up to the Jaffa? 

Daniel proposed a strategy that acknowledged this.  Enlist Master Bra’tac and the Jaffa rebellion to find her.   Bra’tac was legendary among the Jaffa.  He had no prim’tah left to expose.  With a small group of volunteers who would be given the cure the SGC could spare from research, the search could be expanded safely without overburdening the workload of the SGC.  

And as Daniel pointed out, it was an opportunity for the correct social solution.  The stranger had put the Jaffa in a much better position to oust the Goa’uld.  Enough Jaffa had been cured and liberated that the Jaffa would be well positioned to continue her efforts and determine their own destiny, but only if they could find her and obtain sufficient reserves of the cure. 

Carter also supported continued efforts to find the stranger.   She wanted to lay her hands on a sample of the toxin.  “I have another idea.  So far we’ve followed up on the addresses we’ve obtained fairly randomly, right?  Perhaps we should go back to the freed Jaffa and learn more about them.   See if we can find some clue we’ve missed as to where she might go next.” 

All agreed it was a good idea.  And yet, the stranger had managed to come and go from each of these worlds without even leaving her name behind.   How could they step inside her mind and predict where she might next be found?  She didn’t seem to want to be found, and yet, something was gnawing at Daniel.  

“Dammit.  She’s left us a message and we’re just not getting it.  She must know something of us and the rebel Jaffa movement.  In every case so far, she advised the Jaffa that they had brothers out there in the fight and to be open to alliance with the Tauri.  I’ll bet she’s tried to contact us before.  But without a GDO . . .”  

“We didn’t open the door.”  Jack finished for Daniel. 

“But wait a minute, if that’s really the case,” Major Carter questioned, “wouldn’t she’d be dead, smashed into the iris?” 

“Majorly false assumption, Major,” Jack jibed.  “You’re falling for her ‘simple dressed in beggar’s robes carrying a walking staff act.’  I’m betting she tried to send messages or a probe.  I’m betting she’s got way more useful doohickeys than we know.” 

“So she knows about the iris . . . and left us an invitation to follow her in the only other way available,” Daniel guessed.  

“But why not have left something specific?  Why refuse help from volunteers on the planets she’d liberated, or just leave behind some way to contact her like an address?” asked Carter. 

Jack responded in a heartbeat.  “Ever heard of a snake in the grass?”  

Teal’c looked puzzled. 

“I see what you mean, Jack,” commented Daniel. 

“I get to be right for a change, Danny-boy?” Jack feigned astonishment. 

“Yes, Jack.  While these Jaffa took the choice of freedom, how much could she really trust any of them?  These were not relationships built over time.  They  took no action that constituted a sufficient proof of allegiance – like when Teal’c joined us.  She couldn’t risk her sources or her six.”  

“Yup.  Go to the head of Special Ops 101, Grasshopper,” Jack said proudly. 

# Chapter 7 – Pay dirt

Seven more worlds the stranger liberated from Goa’uld rule were found, but she was not.  The leads she acquired from all these worlds now numbered over 100 potential targets.  Prospects began to look dimmer for finding her. 

But two weeks later, following Major Carter’s suggestion to revisit the stranger’s path, Master Bra’tac brought back the penultimate clue from P3R-693.  No doubt Master Bra’tac’s special manner and sensibilities could be credited for the lead.  Rather than focus his inquiries on the information about other worlds the Jaffa gave Caine, he focused his inquiries on her reaction to it.  None of the men spotted it, but the healer, a woman who had been present at the disclosure of addresses, had.   

Master Bra’tac explained.  “Among the numerous worlds revealed to the stranger, the Jaffa described to her a slave factory.  There the resident Goa’uld, Babi, with the cooperation of allied Goa’ulds, brings children harvested from humans and Jaffa.  These children were taken by force or exchanged by their parents for the protection of the gods.  The Goa’uld take them young and train them.   Some are immediately put to work as servants.  They are challenged to compete for the good fortune of becoming hosts someday.  The young Jaffa are indoctrinated to become warriors and carriers of their god’s young.   By keeping them isolated from outside influence, the Goa’uld insures complete control over their minds.  When the children are old enough and fully conditioned, most are sold to the allied Goa’ulds.  Apparently,” Master Bra’tac lowered his head in revolt as he continued, “this world also serves as a pleasure planet for the Goa’uld.” 

“Good god!” General Hammond swore repulsed.  The faces of the others shared his reaction. 

“You think this was so horrible, she necessarily would have gone there?”  Carter asked. 

“No, Major.  Unfortunately, to those who have dealt with the Goa’uld, as we and she have, this is not shocking.  Undoubtedly, there are many horrible places among which to choose.  I suggest immediate reconnaissance of the world mentioned only because of the reaction the healer saw.   While the stranger’s body and words showed no sign of loss of composure as this world was described, the healer saw the woman’s eyes glaze over in such hatred and sadness that it was palpable.” 

“General, permission to dial-up . . ..” 

The General cut off Jack.  “Send the MALP and the UAV immediately.  Master Bra’tac, do we know what we may expect to find on this planet?” 

Apparently the planet is far from the allied Goa’ulds who visit it.  Most travel is by gate.  The gate will be heavily fortified.  There will be gliders and transports as the temple is not close to the gate.  No mothership is likely; this Goa’uld is a businessman not a warlord.” 

“SG-1, depending on what the MALP and UAV show, be prepared to depart A.S.A.P..   SG-5 will be ready for back up if needed.  Master Bra’tac, I hope we can count on you as well.”  The General could.  

SG-1 headed for the door, when General Hammond called back to Colonel O’Neill.  “Colonel, a word with you please.” 

“Sure.” 

“Jack, a word of caution.  The mission I’m authorizing is to find this woman and obtain information and technology which aids Earth’s defense.  Nothing more.   So as disgusting as what goes on this planet may be, unless it is absolutely necessary to accomplish the mission, SG-1 is not there to liberate the children.  Leave it to her. I know that may be difficult for you to accept.  But is it understood?” 

Jack glared back with disbelief at General Hammond, who raised his hands with a small shrug to show understanding of Jack’s frustration.  Then, with a downward cast of his eyes, Jack rattled off “yessir.”  After all, as C.O., absolute necessity was pretty much in his ballpark to determine, and Jack knew how to write a mission report to cover his ass. 

            

# Chapter 8  - The One that Isn’t a Piece of Cake

The MALP showed an unguarded gate on P3R-014.  That was unexpected.  Or a good sign, thought Jack.  Off to some distance on the left, the MALP showed the remains of a destroyed bivouac.  “Looks like our friend may have already been here.” 

The UAV revealed a pretty local landscape of very rocky forests, small lakes, and yup, a little old Goa’uld pleasure palace 64 clicks from the gate.  The UAV was shot down shortly after approaching the temple.  That was not such a good sign.  Nevertheless, General Hammond gave the team a go to seize the opportunity presented by an unguarded gate. 

Gearing up on the gate ramp, Daniel had some additional information to share with the team, Master Bra’tac and General Hammond. 

“I had a chance to research the name of this Goa’uld while getting ready.  In Egyptian mythology, Babi was depicted as a male baboon in a state of, shall we say, sexual excitement.  Babi was both a dangerous god who was said to live on human entrails and a god associated with sexual prowess in the afterlife.   He is mentioned in the Books of the Dead as attending the ceremony of the Weighing of the Heart in the Hall of the Two Truths, waiting with Ammut to devour the souls of those found unworthy. His, um, phallus was depicted being employed as the mast of the underworld ferry.” 

“Thanks Danny,” Jack snorted insincerely.   “Just the imagery I wanted to start off this trip.   Don’t suppose you’d like to lead with your entrails through the gate first.  Whatever an entrail is.” 

“Those would be your internal organs, sir.  Usually means the stomach, intestines, et cetera,” Carter proffered suppressing a giggle. 

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t like fruit loops,” Jack retorted. 

The chevrons engaged, and the MALP continued to show the gate area clear.  They stepped through to the other side. 

Ah, trees.  A dense forest of many large trees and rocks off to the right, more than a hundred yards away.  Jack liked trees.  He just didn’t always like what hid amongst them.  Off to the left was a clearing with only scattered smaller trees, shrubs and rocks.   Not much cover there, especially for big Jaffa.  

Jack thought he spotted movement in the trees.  He even thought he’d fleetingly glimpsed a cloak.  Then it was gone.  “Anybody see that?” 

“What?” asked Carter. 

“Movement in the trees, two o’clock.” 

“No sir.  But I’m sure this kind of plant life must support animal and bird life, sir.” 

“Carter, humor me one of these days and invent a tricorder,” Jack was only partly joking. 

            

“Do my best sir.  What should we do with the MALP sir?” 

“You mean the big honkin’ target letting anyone spot us a mile away?” 

“Yessir,” chuckled Major Carter.  “Send it back or into the woods?” 

Jack, never letting his eyes stray from the area of the woods where he’d seen the movement, removed the shoulder fired missile equipment from its cases and stowed the cases in the MALP before Carter disposed of it.   “Just park the goddamn thing in the woods.”  Jack’s contempt for the MALP was well known, and shared by many SGC officers. 

            

“Traveling light there, Jack.” Daniel quipped.  He thought Jack must have had at least sixty pounds of gear. 

“Try downing a glider with a berretta, Danny Boy.  Fan out.  Teal’c, Bra’tac and Danny to the left.  Carter, you and I to the bloomin’ trees.” 

But as they started to move, they heard the chevrons engage.  “Incoming wormhole, crap!” Jack summed it up succinctly.  There was no chance of getting into the woods in time.  The left side offered closer cover, but it was scattered and not even close to ideal.   Jack signaled them left.   This was not a good start.  

“Maybe it’s a friendly, Jack,” whispered Daniel, ever the optimist.  

“Or nearsighted Jaffa,” Jack retorted.  They’d have to be pretty nearsighted not to notice the absence of gate guards.  Jack’s “we’re in deep shit” feeling worsened. 

Four Jaffa stepped through the gate first.  They were followed by a column of twenty or so children roped together by hands.   Two Jaffa flanked each side of the column of children.  Four more Jaffa brought up the rear. 

Jack’s heart sank.  He signaled his team to stay put for now.  His team was too exposed as it was for comfort, and an open assault on the Jaffa with the children there was unthinkable.  They were too far for zats to be effective.  Jack would somehow have to draw off enough guards for his team to get close enough for zat use.  That meant someone, undoubtedly Jack himself, was going to have to play target.  And chances were still good they would be captured or worse. 

All this clicked through Jack’s brain in a second or two.  Luckily for them, the Jaffa had yet to spot them.  Then suddenly, across the way from the woods, a Goa’uldish voice boomed.   “Jaffa Kree.  Several slaves have escaped and are free in the woods.  Assist us now.  We shall teach them a lesson they shall not forget.” 

All but the four flanking guards left the children.  Tied together in a strange place, they posed no threat. 

“Bloody brilliant,” thought Jack.  In an instant, he knew who it was: Caine.  Doing what he had known needed to be done, but from a far better position – away from Jack’s barely hidden team and towards the forest.  Jack used hand signals to instruct Bra’tac and Teal’c to take out the guards remaining with the children with zats, if possible.  They were the most accurate shots and would protect the children best.  

He signaled for Carter and Daniel to follow him.  Hell, even Daniel could hit these targets.  Caine had drawn them off the other way.  It would be like shooting fish in a barrel.  

From out of the woods, what looked like bolts of electricity took out two of the Jaffa advancing on the stranger’s position before they had time to react.  Then she took out two more who had begun to open fire.  Jack and Sam took out the remaining four from behind.  Daniel’s aim was, well, game.  Meanwhile, Teal’c and Bra’tac used this diversion to slip in and take out the guards remaining near the gate with zats.  The children were unharmed. 

The stranger emerged from her position in the woods, using her staff as a brace.  Although she bore no signs of it on her face, she had a nasty looking staff wound on the outside of her left thigh.  

“Ow, that’s gotta hurt,” grimaced Jack in greeting. 

“Tauri, I presume.” 

“Colonel Jack O’Neill, peaceful traveler from Earth, at your service Ma’am.”  He winked at Daniel, having stolen his first contact line.  “And by the way, thanks.” 

“Thanks to you as well, O’Neill.  Can you remove the children to safety?  It may be a few minutes before I can reach the gate.”  She glanced toward her injured thigh.  “If the battle was heard, it may not be long before reinforcements arrive.” 

“Daniel, dial home.  You and Carter take the kids through and update the General.  We’ll be along in a few minutes, I expect.  If not, dial us up every hour and hold the gate open a few minutes or so.  We may need a diversion to get out.” 

“But Jack, I’ve got a million questions,” Daniel complained. 

“Not now, Daniel.  Get the kids out of here.” 

Jack turned to the stranger.  “Come back with us.  We’ll get you fixed up.”  He offered his arm to help support her. 

“I will not, O’Neill.  My path lies here.  Thanks to you, I may begin a new one soon, however.” 

Jack looked dumbfounded and found himself wishing Daniel would come back and translate.  Instead, Teal’c and Bra’tac approached. 

The stranger acknowledged them.  “You must be the Shol’vah.  Greetings.  There is a cave nearby where we may talk safely.” 

“We would be honored,” Master Bra’tac oozed charmingly.  She stopped and pulled a piece of transparent film from inside her cloak, and applied it to her thigh.  She placed her staff behind her back and graciously accepted Master Bra’tac’s offer of an arm for support, and then led the way.  

Jack’s pride was wounded.   “What am I, chopped liver?” he muttered. 

# Chapter 9 -  A Stranger in a Strange Land

After twenty minutes or so of silent walking through the deep cover of forest, they reached a small, deep, well-concealed cave.   

Nice find, thought Jack.  She definitely had some recon skills.  Manners were another topic, however.  Here was charming Jack O’Neill leading a search for her across the galaxy and she was completely ignoring him, focusing on the Jaffa.  Oh, well.  She did just pull their asses from the fire.  Not that they hadn’t helped too. 

“I am Teal’c and this is Master Bra’tac.  You have heard of us?”  Jack would swear that the big Jaffa’s chest puffed out with pride. 

“Yes.  And now it is time that I pass to you the means by which to truly free the Jaffa from the Goa’uld.  But first I wish certain assurances. O’Neill,” she startled Jack out of his pouting “is there anything you would not trust to these brave Jaffa whose works are known throughout the galaxy?” 

Jack was sure Teal’c’s chest swelled that time, along with Master Bra’tac’s.  “No” was his pithy and honest answer. 

“You must promise me you will give your lives to guard the secrets I will share with you today.  After I have given them to you, you will leave this world immediately and secure this knowledge so it is not lost.” 

“We shall,” Teal’c and Bra’tac promised in unison. 

“Then I pass to you today what has been my great privilege and burden.  Today this path ends for me, and another begins.” 

“It will be no burden, but an honor, to carry on what you have begun.”  Teal’c looked mystified by her remark.  

Jack didn’t follow that last bit, either.  Once again he was missing Daniel’s semantic skills. 

But Master Bra’tac showed understanding of what Teal’c and Jack did not:  “We accept them both with gratitude on behalf of all Jaffa.  May your next path bring you peace.” 

She wrote out in the dirt for them the coordinates where they could find the source of both the toxin and the cure.  “You shall take every possible precaution to protect this man and his world from the Goa’uld.  He will provide you with all you need and more.  You will waste no time in procuring this knowledge when you leave here.” 

“How will he know to trust us?”  Teal’c asked. 

“You shall go to the nearest village and ask for the Tinkerer.  Address him as the “Maki Tanum.”  He will know who you are and why you are there. 

Jack silently and ponderously mouthed the words “Maki Tanum.”  “Sounds like a fish.” 

“I shall assist you on your return through the gate now.”  She was all business, that’s for sure.  

Jack, feeling dismissed prematurely, snapped.  “Whoa!  Before we get out of Dodge, assuming we plan to, I have a couple of questions I’d like answered.” 

“As would I, O’Neill,” Teal’c agreed. 

“What is it you need to know?” 

Jack was stumbling for questions to ask.  Over the past weeks he’d had so many.  Now they were a blur.  “Your name would be good for a start.” 

“How does a name help you in the fight against the Goa’uld?” 

She was baiting him.   “Beats shouting ‘Hey you, duck’ if a staff blast is heading your way.” 

“I do not require your protection, O’Neill.” 

“We ask a name only so we may address you courteously and remember your brave endeavors to our fellow Jaffa.”  Bra’tac returned the conversation to a grown up level. 

“As you wish.  It is Chanah.”  The initial sound was blend of a “k” and an “h”. 

“You are not Jaffa.  If you would not mind, I would like to know how you come to fight to liberate the Jaffa.”  Teal’c asked politely. 

“To repay a debt of honor and gratitude,” Chanah nodded toward the two Jaffa. 

Jack, without any recognition of his own modus operandi in never volunteering more information than necessary when asked a question, found himself annoyed.   “Care to explain that?” 

“I will do so to honor the memory of Bim’lac.  It should be his legacy.” 

Chanah told her tale.  “Several thousand years ago, my ancestors were slaves.  They had just succeeded in escaping their bondage when one of the thirteen tribes was captured by another oppressor, the Goa’uld.  They were taken by ship to a new world to serve again as slaves.  But my ancestors were resolved never to bow down before false gods again.  They resisted, only to be slaughtered in mass.  Legend tells that one day the prayers of the ancestors to their true god were finally answered.  White light swept down from the sky and the Goa’uld disappeared entirely.” 

Teal’c and O’Neill both blurted out “the Asguard?” 

“I know not of that name,” continued Chanah, “only that the Goa’uld were gone and my people were left alone for many generations.   My world changed much from the ancient times.  It became highly industrialized and mechanized providing much leisure time for the people.  They became soft-bodied and irresolute in nature.  

When I was a young girl, the Goa’uld came again and posed as the chosen one.  At first, many believed.  But it was not long before his behavior proved otherwise. The Goa’uld reduced our gleaming cities to rubble to eliminate any risk of insurrection through technology.  Our populace was decimated.  Those who were left were herded into slave labor to mine ore for the Goa’uld and to build shrines unto him.  

The mines did not prove fruitful for long, and the Goa’uld prepared to leave.  A hundred or so children were taken in ships.  We looked down in horror as those ships rained destruction upon the remains of our world. 

The children were taken to another planet for placement in the service of the Goa’uld.  The natives were Jaffa.  We were to be trained for servitude by them, as they had been trained before us. 

My only good fortune in all this was to be placed under the tutelage of a Jaffa named Bim’lac.  He did that which he needed to survive and keep his family safe.  But Bim’lac was not fooled by the Goa’uld.  He knew, as my people had, that they were false gods.  He tried to give his children and me the tools to survive and liberate ourselves from them when the opportunity presented itself. 

It was several years later when the Goa’uld returned with children of a race we had never before seen.  The children of the “Oneness with Earth” they called themselves.   

Days after they were brought, one of their kind came through the gate.  She was captured and killed.  Soon thereafter, a sickness began to spread among the implanted Jaffa.  Their prim’tahs were dying inexplicably.  

Then the people of the Oneness followed in number.  They were dressed in simple robes which belied their power and resolve.   They had a remarkable style of hand and foot combat.  Without weaponry, they eliminated the suffering and still healthy Jaffa alike. 

Unbeknownst to all, that first visitor had unleashed a potent toxin which spread among the implanted Jaffa within hours.  The prim’tahs began to flee the pouches and die.  Every implanted Jaffa would die next – friend and foe alike –including Bim’lac and his children who had been as siblings to me.  The Goa’uld would die the same way too.  These people had liberated their children and others.  But the cost had been high. 

It seems that those who came to rescue the children, although possessing a potent toxin which would kill the Goa’uld and its larva, did not know their enemy.  They were unaware of how the Jaffa had been enslaved and genetically modified for the service of the Goa’uld.  When they learned of it, they were saddened, both for the fate of the Jaffa and at their own indiscriminate killing of an enslaved race.  You see, only one among their people truly knew of the Goa’uld and the Jaffa.  

I returned with them to their world as did many other children.  I had no where else to go.  It was then I met the maker of the toxin, the Tinkerer whom I alone call Maki Tanum.  He was a scientist.  He was not native to the world of the people of the Oneness.  He had come there many years prior, a refugee from Goa’uld horrors he would not disclose to them with specificity.  

The people of the Oneness told him of the consequences of his toxin and their sadness in causing them.  He was unapologetic for the mass destruction it had caused.  The Goa’uld and the Jaffa were all evil creatures  to him.  I spoke to him about Bim’lac and the history of the Jaffa.  He was unaware of it.  But even then, he felt the result had justified the means.  We took him back through the gate so he could see the bodies of the women and children who had died.  He was affected by the sight.  The only Jaffa he had ever seen or known were the soldiers who wantonly killed his family and people. 

I remained among the people of the Oneness and trained for many years in their style of warrior.  I had a score to settle with the Goa’uld and a debt to Bim’lac to help liberate those they enslaved.  The Maki Tanum possessed a toxin which still had much potential.  If only it could be refined or limited in its use to target only the Goa’uld and those Jaffa who could not be turned from the Goa’uld.  The Maki Tanum devoted himself to refining the toxin to make its use more discriminate.  He also applied himself to finding a way to help the Jaffa survive.  At last, one day, he succeeded.   

I have been the courier of these agents for several years now.  During that time, word came to me of the Jaffa rebellion and the Shol'vah.  I sought to contact them through the Tauri, but was unable to do so.” 

“Hey, if we knew you were coming, we’d have baked a cake.”  Jack was back on form. 

            

“It is time to entrust my knowledge and the responsibility of it to the Jaffa themselves.  They must now determine their own fate.  My debt is repaid.” 

“Excuuuse me.   But before we get dismissed again, I’d like to know if there’s anything in this for Earth?  Technology, doohickeys, medicine?” 

            

“I’m sorry if I did not make it clear, O’Neill.   The Maki Tanum will provide help to the Tauri as well.   I did not state so expressly because I thought it understood.  My people were of the Tauri.” 

            

“Ohhhh, I kinda missed that somehow.”  Jack wore his “am I dense?” look.    

“Okay, so what’s next?” he asked, looking to recover quickly. 

“You will leave, and I will finish what I came to do.” 

“With that bum leg?” 

“It is healing well as we speak.  I will see you safely through the gate now.” 

# Chapter 10 – The Bum’s Rush 

Chanah started walking as she spoke these words.  And true enough, her leg seemed to be healing remarkably fast.  That patch would be high on Jack’s doohickey list.  

“Look, you don’t have to do this alone.  We came prepared to help.”  Jack was insistent. 

“Indeed, it would be our honor,” agreed Teal’c and Bra’tac. 

Her patience was eroding.  “What lies ahead is my path alone.  You have accepted my terms and now must execute them.  If you stay and are killed, this knowledge and its source may be lost to the Jaffa and Tauri forever.  You agreed to leave immediately.” 

Teal’c and Bra’tac looked at each other and confirmed her words as true.   They would do as agreed. 

“Ahem.  I don’t recall making any such agreement,” Jack interceded.  

“O’Neill, if we may speak privately, please,” requested Master Bra’tac.  “We must either honor her wishes or not partake of her offer.  She does not wish our help, O’Neill.  She will accomplish her mission without our help, one way or another.” 

“So what will a little help in doing it hurt?   I don’t get it.” 

“I am saying that I do not think Chanah cares whether she lives or dies.  Given that, I do not believe she wishes to expose others to the risks that may ensue,” explained Bra’tac. 

“Where did you get all that?”  Jack was nonplussed. 

“O’Neill, do your ears not hear and your eyes not see?  She is a warrior who has lost the will to fight.  She has carried on out of a sense of duty.  Now that she has passed her information to us, one of her burdens is lifted.  Perhaps she is now free to rest.  We can only imagine the horrors she has endured before and since her liberation from the Goa’uld.  There is much left out of her story.” 

“I just don’t see it.” 

“Then you do not look.  Do you not observe in her voice and mannerisms how she seems disconnected from all but finishing her mission?” 

            

“O’Neill,” Teal’c spoke softly, “as I understand it, you have felt that way before.  On your first mission to Abydos.” 

At this, Jack went silent.  

Bra’tac made the next offer to her.  “Surely there is something more we can do?” 

“There is.  In seven days, send help for the children.  They will need medical attention, supplies and relocation.  The people of the Oneness will help.” 

“We will do that,” Bra’tac volunteered, “and I’m sure the Tauri will also help.” 

Jack was strangely quiet, lost in thought.  Teal’c knew this meant he was strategizing, but about what Teal’c was uncertain.  

Jack found his voice again, a minute or two after leaving the cave.         

“Are you sure we can’t do more to help?” 

“You know if you’re having second thoughts . . .” 

“No man is an island.” 

“It’s a nice spot.  I could stick around and fish afterwards.” 

Through the woods, Jack continued with various ways of offering to stay and help.  Teal’c was puzzled why O’Neill did this.  He was confident that Chanah would accomplish her mission.  He did not see why O’Neill did not respect this. 

“I’d be happy to watch your six, you know.  Anytime.” 

Finally, Chanah had had enough.  “Are you always this exasperating, O’Neill?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

            

“It wasn’t a compliment.  I’ve had enough exasperating men for two lifetimes.” 

“Does that include revivals in a sarcophagus?” 

“O’Neill!” 

“I’m growing on you, aren’t I?” 

“Like a fungus.” 

“See, now I know you like me.” 

This banter ceased with a hand signal that gate guards were visible through the woods.  The MALP was upended at the edge of the woods, the apparent target of staff blasts.  

“What is that ridiculous piece of machinery you brought, O’Neill?” whispered Chanah. 

“Oh, that.  Basically, it’s a radio, camera and air quality tester.  I keep begging Carter to shrink it,” Jack replied with embarrassment. 

Chanah pulled out a handful of rubbery pebbly looking things and some 4x4” squares of translucent film from her cloak.  “Here, O’Neill, for the next time.  Gently squeeze a couple and throw them through the wormhole.  Touch the screen and you will have audio and video feed, and air quality assessment.”  

Jack took the items and handed them to Teal’c.  “Get all that big guy.”  Addressing Chanah, he explained, “Carter doesn’t trust me with the doohickeys.” 

“I am not surprised, O’Neill.” 

            

“Ouch!”  Jack pretended to be stung by the remark. 

Playtime was over though.  With eight guards at the gate, it was time for an exit strategy.  Jack had set this in motion earlier.  They would wait for the next wormhole to be opened by General Hammond.  They would use this diversion to attack the guards from the rear.  As long as none were hidden elsewhere, they should be able to take them.  

Once the gate was clear, Teal’c would dial and Master Bra’tac would leave first.  They had somewhere else to get pronto.  Before they made their move, Jack had a few private words with Teal’c, while Master Bra’tac bid Chanah farewell and thanks.  Teal’c wished her good luck.  Jack was quiet. 

The guards went down as planned.  After radio contact with General Hammond, the wormhole was shut down so SG-1 could dial home.  Teal’c dialed up as Master Bra’tac stood by to go through first.  Jack and Chanah were about fifty yards from the gate covering their sixes.  Chanah urged Jack forward.  She wasn’t leaving; she could guard their rears by herself just fine.  Still, Jack insisted on staying further back from Teal’c and Bra’tac than he needed.   He was loathe to leave anyone behind, and almost always sent his teammates ahead.  Even if Chanah wasn’t quite a teammate, he could not resist seeing her safely out of his watch. 

Teal’c got the gate open and sent the GDO code.  Bra’tac stepped through.  Teal’c started toward the gate, and just shy of it, heard the last thing they needed.  

“Incoming gliders, O’Neill.”  

Teal’c began to back up from the DHD to the gate, staff weapon at the ready.   O’Neill and Chanah were still out in the open.   Their only chance was to break for the gate.  Jack signaled to her to do so, but she shook off Jack and yelled at him to go.  Chanah began to edge towards the woods, which were too far to possibly reach for cover, and then aimed her staff to fire upon the gliders. 

“Dammit!” Jack thought.  If he didn’t stay and do something, she had little chance of surviving fire from two gliders out in the open.   Maybe somehow she’d finish her mission by spreading the bugs if there was anything left of her body, but the odds seemed absurd and what a ridiculous way to end a beautiful career.  He decision was made.  Rather than break for the gate while Chanah and Teal’c fired cover for him, he too would go after a glider.  Good thing he’d carried that shoulder fired missile.  He’d have one shot and he needed to make it count.  Teal’c’s staff weapon wasn’t ideal against a glider.  He had no clue what Chanah’s little lightning stick would do.  

Jack took what little cover the DHD afforded and aimed the missile.  

“O’Neill, go now!” 

“You’d miss me too much.”  

The gliders approached.  Chanah was first in their trajectory.  She fired her weapon at  the closest one, and her aim was true.  The glider seemed to short out and plunged to the ground.  After firing, she had to tumble to evade incoming fire from the second glider.  Energy blasts exploded around her. 

Jack’s missile hit the second glider.  It veered off into the clearing and crashed.  Teal’c gave the all clear sign to Jack.  Jack checked back to Chanah.  She was down, writhing in pain.   

“Go ahead, Teal’c.  If I’m not back in a few minutes, you know what to do.”  

Teal’c didn’t protest.  Jack was not letting her throw away her life on his watch.  It would have been as if Daniel had let Jack blow himself up on Abydos. 

Rushing to Chanah’s side, he could see it was bad.   He might have failed already.  She was alive, barely conscious, and in obvious pain.  “I told you to go,” she strained.  Her neck and shoulder were torn open by the blast .  She could not go long without medical assistance.  The gate would be her best chance, but the wormhole had closed already.  

 Jack knew reinforcements would be on the way soon.  “Crap,” he grunted, as he thought he heard the sound of another glider approaching from far away.  Jack did the math quickly:  a hundred yard dash to the forest carrying her or a process of carrying her to the DHD, dialing, entering the GDO code and picking her up and carrying her again.  It was a no-brainer.   He dropped his gear pack, rummaged for some medical supplies, and threw her into a fireman’s carry.  He bolted for the woods.  After getting into cover of the forest, he stopped to apply first aid before retracing the steps to that cave.  

# Chapter 11 – The Semantics of Absolute Necessity 

Back at the SGC, Teal’c and Bra’tac stepped through the gate.  No one followed.  As Carter and Daniel anxiously watched, General Hammond braved the question first.  “Where’s Colonel O’Neill?” 

As Jack would jest, Teal’c had some “splaining” to do.  

“We met resistance at the gate, General.  After defeating it, Chanah was injured.  Jack went back to assist her.  He did not have time to make it to the gate before the wormhole disengaged.  He will either attempt to return shortly or, if reinforcements were on the way, will have retreated into cover of the woods.  He is aware of a good hiding place there.” 

“Whoa, back up, Teal’c.  Who the hell is Chanah?” 

“General, there is much to tell.  I do not think there is much we can do to help Colonel O’Neill before debriefing.” 

Hammond kept SG-5 on standby for a search and rescue mission, and then commenced with the debriefing of SG-1. 

Teal’c and Bra’tac, neither usually long for words, did indeed have much to tell.  They related all they had learned from Chanah.  There was something to excite everyone.  

Sam and the General were salivating at what they might be able to learn technologically from Chanah’s friend.   When Sam was shown the miniature probes and screens, she was momentarily at a loss for words.   “If this works, the MALP could be obsolete.”  

“Jack must have done handstands at that prospect,” Daniel volleyed.  Teal’c nodded to show that he had. 

Daniel, on the other hand, was putting together the pieces he’d heard for a lecture on intersecting cultures. 

“If Chanah has her history right, her people may be descendants of the thirteenth tribe of Israel which disappeared millennia ago.  Her name, Chanah, is Hebrew for grace or mercy.  Then she ends up studying under the Jaffa, only to be whisked away into what sounds like a Zen Buddhist colony.  That’s one helluva combination.  The Tinkerer’s special name – Maki Tanum – there’s something familiar about that too.” 

“O’Neill thought it sounded like a kind of fish,” Teal’c noted wryly. 

General Hammond steered them back on course.  “All right, SG-1, you and Master Bra’tac prepare to leave for the coordinates obtained from Chanah immediately.” 

“But Jack,” protested Sam and Daniel in unison. 

The General shook his head as if in apology.  “Colonel O’Neill had his orders.   Unless I missed something, the mission was accomplished and Jack had ample opportunity to make the gate.” 

“Yes, General,” Teal’c answered honestly. 

“General, you know Jack.  He wouldn’t leave her behind injured.  And what about the kids?”  Daniel was mystified at the General’s hard line. 

“Dr. Jackson, we are all familiar with Colonel O’Neill’s personal code of honor.   But his motives aren’t the issue.  His orders are.  There was no absolute necessity for staying on P3R-014 once Chanah was located and the information sought was obtained.” 

“But if she was killed, Jack would be abandoning those kids.  He could never do that.” 

“For all I know Dr. Jackson, she could have spread the toxin when injured or dead.  In any event, Jack’s propensity to contort my orders to fit his personal objectives won’t work here.  I have a chain of command, too.” 

“Earth first?”  Daniel at last caught on to the thread of the General’s response. 

“Yes, Dr. Jackson.  As much I personally can see why Jack chose to stay behind, there will be no return to P3R-014 for the time being, and perhaps not until the seven days Teal’c and Master Bra’tac agreed to expire.  SG-1 is committed to following up with this Tinkerer.” 

“Seven days!  Do we need to wait that long?”  Carter was dumbfounded. 

“That’s enough SG-1. This is not a democracy.  You have your orders.  Let’s just hope Jack’s survival skills are in top form until then.  Major Carter, get the MALP ready immediately.  Dismissed.” 

Teal’c and Daniel lingered outside the briefing room, while Carter went off to prep the MALP.  Teal’c tried to comfort his confused colleague. 

“It was O’Neill’s express order to me that SG-1 proceed to obtain the technology of the Tinkerer as soon as possible.  I do not believe you need to be so concerned with his welfare.  He has a formidable ally in Chanah.” 

“What if she’s dead?” 

“She had a healing patch that seemed to regenerate tissue.  It was quite remarkable.” 

“And if it doesn’t work?”  Daniel was looking for problems, not reassurances. 

“Jack will have her devices.  He will complete Chanah’s mission himself.” 

“And if they’re captured?” 

“From what we have learned, Chanah has often been captured.  She has survived each time.  I believe the Colonel will also survive.” 

“Teal’c, there’s something you’re not saying here, isn’t there?”  asked Daniel.   

            

Teal’c looked uncomfortable.  “Colonel O’Neill advised me before we arrived at the gate that he might stay behind, and asked that we go forward without him.  He said he’d see us in a few days.” 

“Even before she was hurt?  That doesn’t make any sense.  Why?” Daniel somehow felt betrayed by Jack’s staying behind. 

“When Chanah turned this information over to us, she explained how she was ending one path, and was now free to begin another.  Colonel O’Neill had concern for her . . . welfare.” 

“I don’t see it,” Daniel said. 

 “It was not only what she said, but how she said it.  I believe you may best understand all this by reference to Colonel O’Neill’s state of mind on that first mission to Abydos. “ 

“The suicide mission . . .” Daniel recalled it well. 

“That wasn’t, because of you, Daniel Jackson,” said Teal’c. 

“Oh God, you don’t think . . .” muttered Daniel seeing it at last. 

“Yes.  I believe Colonel O’Neill hopes to be her Daniel Jackson.” 

            

Daniel didn’t much like it, but there was no choice.  Jack forced this hand.  Any rescue, if Jack needed it, would have to wait.  The rest of SG-1 and Master Bra’tac were to visit Chanah’s Tinkerer as soon as possible.  It was the deal cut for the information. 

# Chapter 12 – A Rock Feels No Pain

A few minutes deeper into the woods, Jack stopped to check Chanah’s vitals again.  Her pulse was weak and thready.   Jack applied pressure bandages, but feared they wouldn’t suffice.   He strained to remember where she’d pulled that healing patch from earlier.  It had healed her leg almost entirely in an hour.  If he could just find a couple, then maybe she had a chance.  If only he’d paid more attention to her doohickeys.  After rummaging through numerous concealed pockets in her clothing, he thought he found the right patches.  Being Jack, he worried a bit if they might not be the screens that went with the pebbly probe thingies.  

Jack kept this stop no longer than necessary.  As fast as he could, he made for the cave.  They arrived safely.  Setting Chanah down, Jack thought he already saw signs of improved breathing and pulse.  He’d like a lifetime supply of those patches for those pesky little holes aliens were always poking in him. 

He tried to hold her still, but she thrashed as she neared a return to consciousness.  The stuff was good at healing but he wasn’t sure if it included pain killers, and if so, how much.  It didn’t seem to him to be enough.  He risked giving her some morphine.  At least that would keep her calm for awhile.  Jack suspected there’d be hell to pay when she woke and found him there. 

Jack propped Chanah sideways on his lap to keep the injured area as still as possible and clear of hard surfaces.   For the first time since they’d met, he studied her face.  Pretty.  Chestnut hair and eyes to match.  Her sleeping face looked softer, losing the hardness of her attitude when she was awake.  She probably was a real looker, he thought, before she’d acquired so many scars, outside and inside.  

She was a mystery, that was for sure.  There was a lot to admire in her deeds.  But there was a big, deep dark hole inside her.  Jack could relate because he had lots of these holes.   One nearly led him to take his own life, but Daniel drew him back from the brink of self destruction.  Still, he never shared the burdens of these personal hells with anyone.  Why would anyone want to share hell?   He wondered was it the same for her. 

The morphine gave her a few hours of quiet sleep.  As it wore off, Jack could see the nightmares come to her.  He heard some names uttered, some with terror, others with grief.  He heard her efforts to control herself even in her dreams, repeating mantra like:  “I will tell you nothing.”   He felt awkward, like a voyeur. 

Jack gave her some more morphine and she returned to a more comfortable sleep for a while.  At first light, she awoke with her head cradled in Jack’s lap.  She was not a happy camper.  

“Good morning, glory.  Welcome back to the land of the living.” 

Chanah was not amused.  She was very quiet.  Quiet as in pissed as hell.  Quiet as in not appreciating his efforts at all. 

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, did we?” 

This man was relentless.  She was feeling a type of anger and frustration she had not experienced in a long, long time.  She had not even thought herself capable of such feelings any more.  She could not even gather the words to begin to speak. 

“Cat got your tongue?” 

The unmitigated gall of this man.  To not respect her wishes and her choices.  What right had he?  What did she do to deserve this man’s ceaseless optimism when all she wanted was stop feeling anything?  Finally, she’d had reached the point where she could stop fighting and have peace at last.  Why wouldn’t he just go away and let her die? 

In a depleted voice and with a heart in a far darker place than his, she tried to parry to his endless supply of cheery clichés.   “O’Neill, do I not speak English properly?  How many times did I ask you to leave?” 

“That’s the thanks I get for saving your six back there?’ 

“Who asked you to?” 

“My, uh, male bravado?”  At least he answered honestly. 

“O’Neill, I have more than enough bravado of my own, thanks.  I knew what I was doing.” 

“Getting yourself killed.” 

“Whether I lived or died, all that I sought to accomplish here would be nearly done now.  The guards would have taken me.  The toxin would have been unleashed upon them, and the Goa’uld killed.  You have changed nothing of importance, only delayed the liberation of the children.” 

“Do you want to die?” 

She paused a moment before responding.  “I will sooner or later.  It doesn’t matter when.” 

“It might to others.” 

“There are no others.” 

“That’s only by your choice.  Trust me, I know from experience.”   

She arose, and gathered herself together as if to leave.  “It is my choice O’Neill.  Please respect it, as I would respect yours.  Do not follow.” 

“Bullshit. “ 

“Excuse me?” 

            

“I don’t believe you.  If it had been me down by the gate, and I told you to leave, would you have left me there to die?” 

“We’ll never know, O’Neill.”  

He’d got her number now, he was sure.  Well, Bra’tac had told him earlier, but he really could be dense.  She would do what she needed to protect others, but she didn’t want to be put in that position.  O’Neill understood only too well the pressure of being responsible for the welfare of others and the consequences of failure. 

            

She was now at the mouth of the cave, staff in hand unsteadily walking.  “Goodbye, O’Neill.  Please do not follow me.” 

“You won’t shoot me if I do, will you?” 

At this, Chanah stopped.  For a moment, O’Neill saw in her face the look of a deer caught in a car’s headlights.  Then her voice came out weak and pained.   “I will not be responsible for your welfare, O’Neill.”  She turned her back to him and quickened her pace as best she could. 

O’Neill had hit a nerve.  And all of the sudden, he understood her pain.  It had been, and still was, his.  He had killed someone he loved through his negligence.  She lived with a similar pain.  For all he knew, a worse one. 

“Crap, crap, crap,” O’Neill chastised himself.  “Me and my big mouth.”  He’d meant to throw a life line.  Instead, he threw her off the boat.  “Damn it, I’m not Daniel.” 

He followed her at a respectful distance.  He knew that she knew he was there.  But she couldn’t outpace him.  She was struggling.   No matter how good those healing patches were, the neck was a bad spot for a wound.  She’d lost a lot of blood.  Plus there’d been that morphine.  

Jack had to find a way to get through to her.  But more talking without a good strategy would just get him in a deeper hole.   

# Chapter 13 - Bioweapons, Doohickeys and Gizmos, Oh My

Carter, Teal’c, Daniel and Master Bra’tac observed Chanah’s adopted world from the monitor.   The MALP showed nothing of great interest around the gate on P3X-819.  No people, some trees, an unharmed DHD, and a great deal of bright light.  A series of tall stone pillars paralleled both sides of the gate for fifty feet.  SG-1 was given a go. 

As they stepped through the far side of the gate, they were awash suddenly in a bath of light emanating from the pillars.  No one felt any ill effects from the light, but still they were concerned.  As they tried to move forwards or sideways to exit the pillars, they encountered a force shield which prevented their leaving.   They were cut off from the DHD. 

“I don’t suppose Chanah mentioned this?” Daniel asked looking incredulous.  

“No, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said, aiming his staff weapon. 

“No, Teal’c!”  Carter implored.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.  The energy from the staff blast might just bounce off the field and fry us.” 

“Perhaps, Major Carter.  But what alternative methods of escape do we have?” 

            

“You know, Teal’c, I’m not sure we should do anything just yet.  I don’t think this light is harmful.  I think there are two likely possibilities.  First, this is just a force field to hold us here until someone evaluates the risk we pose.  We are probably being observed remotely.” 

            

“A slightly more humane version of an iris?”  Daniel queried.  He’d always been concerned how many potential friendlies had met a smashing death at Earth’s gate. 

“Yes.  Alternatively, this may be a decontamination field of some sort.  We might be getting bombarded with the Goa’uld killing toxin right now.”  

“Any idea how long we’ll have to wait before we find out Sam?” 

“Kind of depends on which it is, Daniel.  Could even be both.” 

Moments later, the light shower ended and the force field dropped.  No one met them at the gate. 

“Okay, well that was interesting.”  Daniel looked to Teal’c and Bra’tac.  “Any other surprises that you guys know we should expect?”  

“By definition, Daniel Jackson, a surprise is something you should not expect.”  Teal’c scored a joke at last. 

“Well, I think we can safely conclude that we just were decontaminated.  If we were Goa’uld, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation.”  Sam patted herself on the back. 

“Or as Jack would say, roaches crawl in, but they don’t crawl out.”  Daniel was proud of his quip, even though it brought to the forefront their concern for Jack’s safety. 

But Daniel’s attention was quickly diverted to the pillars.  “Hold up guys.  This is interesting.  The writing on these pillars is akin to Mandarin Chinese.  And look at the pictograms below, the swords plunging into the snake.  Geez, it’s a Goa’uld.  And this is odd.  The stones have been shaped and engraved quite recently.” 

“Can you decipher what they say, Daniel Jackson?”  Teal’c inquired. 

            

“Well, I’d guess that this pillar either records the death of a Goa’uld, or warns of impending death to the Goa’uld.  I’d need at least a week or so to translate, and references.  Mandarin is not exactly my strong suit.” 

“In that case, I suggest we continue on to our destination.”  Master Bra’tac was not about to wait on the archeologist’s translations to find the Tinkerer. 

            

“He’s right.  Another time, Daniel.”  Sam instructed them to move out.  Daniel thought she sure sounded a lot like Jack all of the sudden, and looked at her askance. 

Sam softened toward him.  “Daniel, if you’re right about the writing being recent, it’s likely we’ll have an opportunity to ask the engravers themselves soon.   It might save you a lot of time hitting the books.” 

“What would the purpose of hitting books be?”  Teal’c queried.  Daniel and Sam didn’t take the bait.  Teal’c knew way more idioms than he would let on, and liked to have his fun as much as the rest of them. 

“It might be nice to have a decontamination and force field like that back at the SGC,” Daniel stated. 

“I agree,” nodded Teal’c.  “General Hammond would be most pleased if we could obtain such a device for the SGC.” 

“Oh, sorry Sam, there’s still that Tok’ra issue.  I’m sure we’ll find a way around that.”  Teal’c’s eyebrow raised in acknowledgement of Daniel’s concern, although his true feelings on the subject of the Tok’ra were as ambivalent as Jack’s. 

“Which way from here, Teal’c?”   Daniel, realizing he’d put his foot in his mouth, sought to divert Sam away from that can of worms. 

“Approximately two clicks north-by-northwest, Daniel Jackson.” 

“A nice short walk for a change.”  Daniel was already thinking of how easy it would be to get back to examine those pillars from such a short distance.  

Their brief walk took them through a hilly, sparsely wooded deciduous forest.  It was a sunny, balmy day and this place radiated serenity.  While they kept their weapons at the ready, they did not expect to meet any real threat and allowed some measure of enjoyment at the landscape as well as the prospects ahead. 

A small settlement of about fifty structures occupying a clearing came into view.  The structures were of modest size and looked well constructed of some sort of stucco.  The clean lines gave them a timeless look; one could not tell what to expect in terms of sophistication of the insides from the outsides.  

The inhabitants went about their business wearing simple garments that might be found among monks or priests of many religions.  Daniel quickly observed that in stature, the people were of modest size compared to North Americans.  On closer observation, they had characteristics that typically were associated with Asians.  

A man walked up to them as if expecting them and offered them greetings.  He introduced himself as “Po” and inquired if they were friends of Chanah.  After they affirmed this and asked where they could find the “Tinkerer,” he escorted them through the settlement to its outside edge.  They were led into a building similar to the others but containing numerous additions.  They were presented to the Tinkerer.  

The Tinkerer did not look at all like the natives.  He was quite tall, over six feet, with white hair covering his head and a neatly trimmed short salt and pepper beard.  He thanked Po, and tacitly bid him to leave.  

The Tinkerer did not receive them as warmly as Po had but viewed them warily.  His eyes stayed focused on the Jaffa, and it was clear he felt jumpy in their presence.  He moved towards a workbench and handled a gadget whose purpose was not obvious.  They all had some concern it might be a weapon, but as he did not take hold it threateningly, no one took any countermeasures.  

Sam and Teal’c turned towards Daniel to introduce them and their purpose as the team had done so often.  As Daniel started into his “hello, we’re peaceful explorers” speech, Master Bra’tac politely and apologetically interrupted. 

“I can see that our presence here makes you ill at ease, sir.  I assure you, we have no desire to do so.  We come as friends and allies in the battle against the Goa’uld and to free the Jaffa.  Are you not the ‘Maki Tanum’ of whom Chanah told us?” 

At the mention of this name, the Tinkerer’s posture and countenance changed.   “Then you must be the Shol’vah?  Chanah has found you at last.”  He stumbled over his thoughts before he started to speak again.   “Does Chanah . . . . is she all right?” 

“When last we saw her, she was injured but alive.  One of the Tauri, Colonel O’Neill, stayed behind to assist her,” said Teal’c. 

“She will not have liked that.”  He allowed himself a half grin.  

“Yeah, about that,” said Daniel, “according to Teal’c and Master Bra’tac she seems to have a problem playing with others.” 

“Chanah has always worked alone.  She finds it easier that way.” 

“Do we need to worry about our friend who stayed behind with her, then?”  Major Carter inquired without benefit of the earlier conversation between Teal’c and Daniel concerning Jack’s ulterior motive. 

“Oh no, on the contrary.  Chanah’s experiences have led her to have a slightly overdeveloped sense of responsibility at times.” 

“Sounds like someone we know,” Sam commented then explained, “Colonel O’Neill.” 

“Knowing Chanah as I do, I would not worry about the welfare of your Colonel in her presence.  My worries,” he said lowering his head with concern, “lie with her future now that she has sent you here.”  

The Tinkerer quickly recovered his equilibrium and invited them into his home.   “Come, come,  We will drink and eat and talk.  It has been a long time since we have had visitors.”  

He led them from the work area into a living area where they were seated on comfortably stuffed furnishings.  The room was decorated sparsely, mainly with functional objects and pictures presumed to be family.  He left them for a moment and returned with an Asian looking woman who helped him serve beverages and simple snacks of fruits and bread.  When Daniel began to spin with excitement about what he had seen so far, and the many things he wanted to know, the Tinkerer would have none of it yet.  “You have come to me seeking many valuable secrets.  You will first tell me of your world and your path, before I reveal more of mine.”  Daniel shrugged.  It seemed fair, even if his gratification would be delayed. 

The Tinkerer had many questions for them, particularly the Jaffa.  He was most interested in Teal’c’s story.  He was intrigued by how Teal’c had made a choice to change his loyalties in a split second, and what the after effects of the decision were.  Teal’c answered candidly although in typically stoic fashion.  The Tinkerer probed for more.  Whether it was to test their honesty or out of simple curiosity, no one was sure.  He seemed to take much enjoyment in their company, but was none to anxious to get down to the business end of their visit. 

Hours later, after getting a sense of each one of his visitors, the Tinkerer permitted the tables to be turned, and took their questions. 

Teal’c and Bra’tac allowed Daniel to take the lead.  They had come for something of great value.  It would be impolite to press the matter prematurely. 

Daniel’s first questions were about the natives.  The Tinkerer confirmed what Daniel suspected.  They likely were descendants of Asians abducted from Earth by the Goa’uld.  There was ancient text to this effect.   But the Goa’uld had not been present on this planet for several thousand years at least.  The village close to the stargate was inhabited by descendants of the priests who were assigned to protect the “ring of evil” from which the Goa’uld had come and gone in ancient times.  The text explained how the ancestors one day rose up and vanquished the “serpents from hell.”  They relied only on their innovative method of self defense and primitive weapons.  

The serpents from hell did not return again.  But a settlement of specially trained fighters was to remain by the gate for eternity as guardians to protect against their return.   It is a position of great honor among the villages.   For thousands of years, no one came through the gate.  Then the Tinkerer arrived.   

“In truth,” the Tinkerer began, “I do not think they would have known a Goa’uld had I been one.  The legends were sufficiently vague and so much time had elapsed since then, that I think they truly were looking for a half-man half-serpent to come through the gate.  Suffice it to say that I did not appear to be a threat then and I was not one. 

I was freely welcomed into their society in short order.  I took a wife among them, or perhaps, I should say she took me for I was no prize by their standards.   We raised a family and lived here in peace and tranquility.  The people here, and in the many villages and cities beyond the gate, are content in their simple way of life and do not seek out technologies to improve it.   But I am proud to have contributed to them technology which has assisted them through times of famine and sickness, and eased the burden of some of the most menial forms of labor. 

When I arrived here, and for many years after, the gate was attended by four of the guardians at all times.  Understand, it had been thousands of years with only one harmless visitor -- me.  Each year at the end of the summer solstice, all except four guardians working in shifts of two, went on a religious retreat in the mountains for one week.  The children stayed behind with the elderly.   

As an ill wind would have it, it was during such a week nearly fifteen years ago that the Goa’uld came again.  I was off on some expedition or another gathering or trading materials.  They slaughtered every adult they found and rounded up all but the youngest of children.  They took them, including my son, through the gate.  

It was no more than luck that prevented the children from being lost to us forever.  One of the guardians, my wife, was severely wounded and feigned death.  Physically she could offer no help to the kidnapped children.  But she managed to observe the glyphs the Goa’uld entered to leave.  She drew them in the dirt before she died. 

Upon the return of the guardians, a rescue was mounted.   I had known of the Goa’uld and the Jaffa who served them, but I had never shared those horrors with these innocent people.  I naively believed I was free of them here.  I had buried my head in the sand.  I was wrong.  

I gave to the guardians who would mount the rescue a toxin that I had been working on for many years.  With it, a rescue mission could be mounted which would destroy the enemy quietly and quickly, permitting extraction of the children with minimal casualties to our people.  One guardian, the mother of a kidnapped child, volunteered to travel to that world first and disperse the toxin.  Many more guardians would follow when the enemies’ defenses were softened. 

It all worked as planned.  But when the people of the Oneness returned, their joy at rescuing the children was tempered by the great numbers of Jaffa women and children who had died.  They had many questions for me.  So did one of the young ladies they brought back.” 

“Chanah,” Master Bra’tac stated with surety. 

“Yes.  And that is when my eyes were opened, and a new path began for me.” 

“You mean by the senseless deaths of all the Jaffa?”  Daniel queried. 

“Yes.  I had much to learn.  And Chanah taught it to me.  From that point forward, I devoted myself to refining the toxin and its delivery, and finding a means of restoring the Jaffa’s immune system on the death of the larva.  I have, as you have figured out by now, also taken steps to prevent any Goa’uld from ever entering through the gate again alive.” 

“So it was a decontamination chamber.  I take it the toxin was present.”  

“Yes, Major Carter.  Had you been a Goa’uld, you would have been dead within minutes.” 

“So there’s no need to post guards anymore.  I can think of a whole lot of worlds who would get on the list for one of those.”  Major Carter spoke the truth, even if she herself was uncomfortable with the risk to the Tok’ra. 

“It can be done, Major Carter.” 

“So Chanah volunteered to be the courier of the toxin and the cure?”  Daniel wanted more. 

“Yes, Dr. Jackson.  But she had to wait many years before she could fulfill this destiny.   When I arrived here, I had a minimum of scientific devices and tools with me.  It took me many years to construct my lab, and many more to find the resources to replicate the toxin I initially had brought with me.  Refining it and finding a cure for the Jaffa then took many more.” 

“So Chanah had to be very patient.   She lived among us and trained with the Oneness for many years before undertaking any missions.  Her defensive skills are quite remarkable, a combination of several cultures’ methods.    She became as a daughter to me.”  Sadness washed over the Tinkerer’s face as he spoke. 

“It was only several years ago, when I had developed a method of probing the safety of the world on the other side of the gate, when Chanah began to go out among them.   Even before the cure was found, when I had made some progress in controlling the dispersal and toxicity of the toxin, Chanah began her quest for retribution against the Goa’uld and hope for the Jaffa.  At first, there were many dead ends in the search for the Goa’uld, I am happy to say, people they have yet to annihilate or subjugate.” 

                        

The Tinkerer abruptly stopped there.  “I suppose it is now time to give you that which you seek.” 

“Wait a second,” Daniel interrupted.  “The name she calls you, Maki Tanum.  I remember now.  I couldn’t think of anything like it in Chinese, because it isn’t even remotely.  It’s similar to a term used by those of Hebrew descent, ‘mechutonum’ for ‘in-laws.’  Is Chanah your daughter-in-law?” 

“That is correct, Dr. Jackson.”  The words were spoken numbly. 

“So your son married her?”  Daniel continued thinking out loud, not noticing the Tinkerer’s growing discomfort at this line of conversation. 

“Yes.  But he is dead now, Dr. Jackson.” 

Daniel cursed inwardly that he had kept talking.  “Oh, sorry.” 

“It was a great tragedy for all.” 

Before he could stop himself, Daniel pointed to a picture of a man with a preteen boy and asked if that was his son. 

“My son and my grandson.” 

“Chanah has a child?” escaped Major Carter’s mouth.  She had never conceived of the warrior she’d heard about with a child. 

“Yes.”  The Tinkerer’s answer was curt. 

Daniel leaned toward Teal’c and Master Bra’tac.  “Perhaps you guys misunderstood her.  She’s got a child to live for.  Maybe all she meant was that she could stay home finally.” 

            

“Chanah is as dead to her son.”  The Tinkerer’s words silenced them all. 

# Chapter 14 – Disturbing the Slumber of Feelings That Have Died

Chanah’s pace was slowing by the minute.  As Jack followed her at a respectable distance, he forced himself to do something he had always avoided during consciousness.  To get inside her head, he had to understand what she was feeling.  Jack was big on not dealing with emotions.  He would never articulate them out loud.  Instead you put your pain in a box and sealed it.  Life would go on as long as you kept putting one foot after the other, if you had something to live for – like Sara, or Charlie or your teammates. 

He had seen and learned enough of Chanah to know she used the box.  But at a certain point, Jack remembered, the box didn’t work.   Like when Charlie died with the handgun Jack should never have left accessible.   When you felt like there was nothing left to live for; you would never be forgiven and didn’t deserve to be.  You could not let anyone help you because you were undeserving.  You became a dead man walking. 

Jack couldn’t pinpoint what on Abydos had pulled him back from the brink: the spirit of the children, Daniel’s willingness to sacrifice himself for Jack, as unworthy as Jack was, or a realization of the scope of horrors in the universe that made his personal pain begin to pale and somehow become manageable.  Whether it was one moment or them all, it was on that visit to Abydos that Jack’s numbness started to lift, and he began to feel again.  Not to feel happy or well, but to feel capable of shuffling one foot after the other allowing for the possibility that someday in the future the good feelings might overtake the bad. 

Chanah needed to feel that hope.   But how could Jack help her to feel that way without figuring out her trigger event?  How could Jack ask her about her deep, dark holes when he himself would never reveal such things to another?   Could he extend himself that far even if he wanted?  Or would his protective sarcasm stop him and drive her ever closer to the end as it seemed to be doing now. 

But then again, thought Jack, although he’d taken a misstep, not all was lost.  There were times during his relentless banter that he had chipped away at her hard surface and saw emotions rising.  If he could keep chipping, without being hurtful, maybe he’d have a shot.  Hell, he didn’t need to shoot for her catharsis.  He’d never allowed it to himself.  But just enough to get Chanah to keep her feet shuffling forward.  

Chanah had to rest.  She found a small cave nestled amid a large pile of boulders.  Her strength was waning.  She cursed her luck.  Where were the Jaffa when you needed them?  She either had to be captured and taken to the temple or to walk there herself before she could unleash the toxin on the Goa’uld.  Jack’s rescue of her had only made things harder.   Why couldn’t the arrogant man see it?  How had he managed to make her so angry with exactly the wrong words?   Why did he come along and try to make her think and feel when all she wanted was to rest at last? 

O’Neill caught up with her during her reverie.  She showed no surprise at seeing him, but she scowled. 

“Thought you might be hungry.”  O’Neill himself was ravenous, and pulled out a pocketful of MREs from his vest. 

She had not the energy to leave yet.   She decided it would be easier to play along with him for now.   

“That’s food?”  Chanah asked observing the foil wrappers with the letters “MRE” printed largely on them. 

“Well, sustenance would be more accurate.” 

“What does MRE mean?” 

“Meals rejected by Ethiopians.” 

“Who are Ethiopians?” 

“Starving people.” 

“Ohhh.  That bad.   Here, try one of these.”    She pulled a flat pebbly looking thing from a pocket.  “Not much flavor, but it’ll fill you up.” 

“Tastes like chicken,” Jack joked. 

“It does not.” 

“Does too.” 

“Does not.” 

“Too.” 

“Not.” 

“Too.  Hey wait a second, do you even know what a chicken is?”  He’d caught her.  

She shrugged. 

Whatever dark hole she was living in, O’Neill was relieved at the moment to find she had a lighter side too.  And the more he hung around her sharing his irreverent humor, the more she seemed to play along.  

“Sorry about back there.  Sometimes I kind of get underneath people’s skin.”  Jack smiled and risked the apology. 

“A similarity you share with the toxin I carry.” 

            

“Well, we have managed to take out a few Goa’uld, too,” Jack said somewhat defensively. 

“With what, your wit?” 

“Nah, my charm.” 

“I think we can declare the Goa’uld safe from that.” 

Jack plastered a look of fake hurt on his face.  “Now who’s hitting below the belt.” 

“If I hit you below the belt, your voice would be much higher now.” 

“Ouch.” 

“If I do it, maybe you would leave?” 

“Nah, still couldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Union rules.  Never leave a lady in distress.” 

“I am not in distress.” 

“Well that’s a matter of opinion.” 

All right, Jack thought, banter is good.  She’s getting used to him.  But he doubted she’d decide to live just for his wisecracks, clever though they were.  

“So how many snakes have you killed?” 

“About 20 Goa’uld.  And maybe a thousand prim’tahs.” 

“Sweet.” 

“And you?” 

“A handful of the big kind.  Some of them a couple of times.  They just don’t like to stay dead.  Damn sarcophagus.” 

“The toxin eliminates that problem.” 

“Yeah, Ba’al goes to the head of my list with that.” 

“Ball?” 

“Yeah.  Did some nice torture on me recently.” 

“You were tortured by a child’s plaything?” 

“It’s the Goa’uld’s name.  Killed me.  Revived me.  Killed me.  Revived me.  And so on.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Me too.   I’d have been happy just to stay dead after the third or fourth time at least.  Didn’t ask my opinion.” 

“They never do.” 

“I remember the good old days.  You died, you stayed dead.” 

“I look forward to those.” 

“When you’re old and gray, of course?” 

“Like you?” 

“Who’s old?”  He could not retort on the gray. 

“Do you fear death, O’Neill?  I do not.” 

“Ummm, I would regret it.  I’ve got a lot of Goa’uld butt-kicking left to do.” 

“You said you would have welcomed it when Ba’al tortured you.” 

“Yeah, but at the time my options seemed limited.  I wouldn’t seek it out.” 

“Can you conceive of no circumstances where you would?” 

“Tried it once.  Didn’t work out as planned.”  

“I can see that.” 

Jack had to take a personal risk here, if he was to succeed.  It was hard for him.  He’d never really said it all out loud to anyone.   It was just a bunch of ugly facts filed away in his box of pain. 

“My son, Charlie, died.  He killed himself with my gun.  It was my fault.  I was a zombie after that.  It hurt just to breathe.  I didn’t even want to do that.  I held that gun to my own head after.  Couldn’t do it.  Not to my wife.  So I took a suicide mission.  I was supposed to blow up a whole planet to kill one Goa’uld.  Five thousand people there, kids, beautiful kids who fought for their freedom.   Almost did it.  Might have but for Daniel.   Kid took a staff blast for me and died.  For a freakin’ walkin dead man.  He showed me there was another way.  Still has a bad habit of doing that.  He and the Abydonian kids made me realize that I could still care.  I just kept putting one foot in front of the other after that.  Time passed.  Things changed.”  

            

“Did your wife forgive you?” 

“I’ll never really know.  I didn’t give her the chance.”         

“Have you forgiven yourself?” 

“No.  Learned to live with it.  Do what little good I can.” 

“I am sorry for your loss, O’Neill.” 

“Me too.  And for lots more since.  The Goa’uld have taken a lot of friends.  I’ve had to kill some of them myself.” 

At this Chanah looked away.  He knew.  She was not alone in this.  He found the chink in her armor and was not going to let her walk away this time. 

“Now, it’s your turn to talk.  Why are you in such a hurry to die?” 

# Chapter 15 – The Missing Piece of the Puzzle

Daniel, Teal’c, Carter and Bra’tac sat silently for a minute or two.  It was hard to know what, if anything, to say after that revelation.  

Daniel broke the awkward silence.  “Remember when we asked if we needed to worry about Colonel O’Neill’s welfare a while ago and you said no?  Maybe we need to revisit that.   Because if she’s got a suicide wish, we might want to think about sending help to him.” 

“I stand by my earlier 

“That’s a little vague for me.  What does ‘not exactly’ mean?”  Sam was having difficulty managing her increasing concern for her C.O.” 

“I mean that she would never kill herself, take her life by her own hand.” 

“But, if I’m understanding this, she might willingly put herself in a position to be killed because she might no longer care if she lives or dies, especially now that she has led us to you,”  Daniel extrapolated. 

“Isn’t that rather a technical difference?”  Sam interposed. 

“Perhaps.  But you must put yourself in her place for a moment.  Chanah’s people considered suicide a great sin.  There would be no peace or final rest if you took your life by your own hand.  The people of the Oneness with whom she has lived and studied these many years have beliefs that are similar.  You will not come back in another life free of your burdens and sorrows if you take your own life.  And while Chanah does not truly subscribe to religious piety of any kind, the nature of her burdens is such that it would be difficult for her to take that chance.”  

“There are no atheists in foxholes,” Daniel analogized. 

“But if you get yourself killed by acting without regard for your own safety, it’s different?”  Sam did not like these semantic games. 

“In the course of committing such noble acts as Chanah does, yes there is a distinction.” 

“I think we need to tell this to General Hammond and get Jack out of there before she takes him down with her.”  Major Carter was ready to bolt. 

Teal’c was the voice of reason.  “Colonel O’Neill was aware of this when he chose to stay, Major Carter.” 

Sam was livid.  Nobody had thought to tell her.  She was off prepping the MALP at the time of that discussion.  

Daniel attempted to console her.  “That’s Jack, Sam, who he is.  From what Teal’c says, I think he sees in Chanah himself as he was a long time ago on Abydos.”  

She shook her head with a look of displeasure.  “Taking that kind of risk will put Jack in unacceptable danger.” 

“It was not unacceptable to him, Major Carter.  We must respect his decision.”  As usual, Teal’c supported his C.O. less conditionally than either of the scientists. 

“Major Carter, there may be less risk to your Colonel than you believe.  Let me explain.  When you arrived here, although I was glad, I was also disheartened.  The finding of the Shol’vah and the Tauri presented Chanah with an opportunity to pass on her quest and to cease her journeys, escaping memories of a life that has taken many cruel turns.   But the staying of Colonel O’Neill, if he is as single-minded as he sounds, may be her salvation.  Her sense of duty would not allow her to cause harm to one of her kind who would aid her.  She would die to protect him.” 

“Even if she did not wish him there in the first place and told him to leave over and over?”  Daniel puzzled. 

“Yes, Dr. Jackson.” 

“No wonder she likes to work alone.  That’s a lot of responsibility to take on,” said Daniel. 

“Sounds like somebody else we know.”  Sam saw it at last. 

“At the risk of sticking my foot deeper into my mouth, was Chanah somehow responsible for your son’s death?”  Daniel dared to go forth despite the three ton elephant sitting in the room. 

“Yes.  She killed him.” 

Master Bra’tac somehow knew.  “He was taken as a host by the Goa’uld?” 

“Yes,” said the Tinkerer with great sadness.  “Before I came to this world, the Goa’uld took the lives of all my family and my people, and after I thought I found sanctuary from them here, they took my wife and my son.” 

“So Chanah killed the Goa’uld and the host -- your son -- died too?” braved Daniel. 

            

“Yes.  She had no choice, of course.  He knew the coordinates of our world.  Ships would have eventually come to destroy us all.  My potions would not have protected against that.  Chanah saved all of us by killing him.  But the cost to her was greater than you could know.” 

“Their son?”  Daniel conjectured. 

“You are perceptive, Dr. Jackson.  He places the blame entirely at her feet and despises her.” 

“But doesn’t he know about the Goa’uld, what they’re like, what they do to the host and the host’s body?”  

“He knows only the most basic facts.  You must understand the circumstances, Dr. Jackson.   Micah was raised mostly by his father, a kind and gentle man.  He was a teacher much beloved by the children here.  Chanah, although she adored her son, was often training or off-world pursuing her life’s work.  Micah’s world centered on his father.  When Chanah told us of his death, she would not explain the details of what the Goa’uld had done to my son or forced him to do.  She would not permit our good memories of the man he was to be taken from us by what he had become.  This she did to protect all of us.” 

“But you understood what she had to do.  Why couldn’t your grandson be made to understand?”  Daniel wanted to help, having been in Micah’s position not long ago. 

“Have you ever tried to make a child understand such a thing?  Could we tell him the truth without destroying his memories of his father?   How could we do so without bringing him the nightmares that plague Chanah and me?  Without destroying the safety of what’s left of his world?  Chanah forbade it.” 

“Children are very resilient.  Look at Chanah herself.  Someday Micah will understand and realize how much time he wasted hating his mother.  And if she dies first, it won’t be easy to live with that.”  Daniel always saw the options, the choices that others didn’t.  “Please let me talk to him.” 

            

“No, Dr. Jackson.  We shall not dishonor his mother’s wishes.” 

“If I promise not to discuss his mother or father at all?” 

“What would the point of that be?” 

“My wife, Sha’uri, was taken as host by the Goa’uld.  My friend, Teal’c, killed her to save my life and that of others.  I have forgiven him.  I still treasure every memory of her, the real her.” 

“I see.  Such a discussion might not directly violate his mother’s wishes.  But what would be the point?” 

“Maybe to give Chanah a reason to continue to live.” 

“It may already be too late.  And if it is, great regret and guilt will be cast upon the boy before he is mature enough to deal with it.  No, I will not allow it.  Besides, Chanah sought to protect him from more than memories.” 

“I don’t understand,” Daniel said with frustration. 

Sam saw it and answered in a quiet voice, “Maybe Chanah didn’t want him to follow in her footsteps, Daniel.” 

# Chapter 16 – An Island Never Cries 

“Excuse me?”  Chanah objected. 

“Your turn.  Tell me what happened.  Why you don’t care if you die.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“I cannot.” 

“Can too.” 

“O’Neill, you behave like a six year old child.” 

“Yup, heard that before.” 

“And you are proud of it.” 

“Gets me through the day.” 

“And that would be your point?” 

“Yup.” 

“Everything will be all right if I start acting like I’m six?” 

“Have you tried it?” 

“It was a happy age, I’ll give you that.” 

“Unlike the teens.  High school, ugh.” 

“Goa’uld slave camp.  Worse.” 

“But it got worse than that?” 

“You are relentless, O’Neill.” 

“You could just give in already.  This is more talking than I’ve done in six months.” 

“I have never told a soul the details.” 

“You can just give me the highlights.” 

“There were only low points.” 

“Lowlights, then.” 

Chanah was pensive for a minute.  While she had factually related the barest information about her background, there were infinite hellish details that were never spoken to anyone.  And then there was this one box of hell, permanently sealed, of which only two sentences had ever escaped her lips.  Those were spoken only of necessity.  She had to tell the Maki Tanum that his son had been taken as host and that she had killed him.  He knew enough not to ask more.   

Why would Chanah even want anyone to know?  She was no believer in pity fests.  How could you put such things upon another?  No one should be forced to carry those images around.  Yet, O’Neill, a stranger, had shared some of his hells and was no weaker in her eyes for it.   He knew the ways of the worlds in which she traveled.  

She considered it carefully.  What is to be gained by saying it out loud?  To leave a further record of the evil of the Goa’uld?  To satisfy the curiosity of a stranger?  Maybe just the shear relief of not holding everything inside that damn box?  He understands pain like mine.  He will not judge.  If this was to be her last mission, what difference did it make anyway?  If she could just get him to shut up already, to go away, then maybe it was worth it.   

“You will not repeat anything I tell you to anyone.” 

“Promise.” 

  

“My work has always been a private affair.  Only the Maki Tanum knew any of the details of my travels, and only those which he needed to provide assistance.  He knew the horrors of the Goa’uld as I did; there was no need to speak of it or relate the less pleasant of my experiences to him.  

My husband, his son, knew much less.   He did not comprehend the true nature of my explorations.  Even though he had been in the slave camp for a few days before being liberated, he had not seen or learned much of the Goa’uld.   He was very content to stay within the safe confines of his world, and I did not begrudge him that.   Neither the Maki Tanum nor I wished it otherwise.  So I pursued my work very much in secret.  

Over a year ago, I was four months with child.  It was a difficult time for us.  I was more cautious in my work back then.  Still there were often injuries, ones that could not be entirely avoided or concealed.  He wanted me to stop my work.  I agreed I would do so later and resume after the birth.   But I had learned of another place like this, a slave camp like I had been taken to as a child.  I could not leave those children there knowingly.  We quarreled.    

I did not know it, but he followed me.  To protect me, I suppose, or because our last words had been harsh, I will never know.  He did not have a clue of the risk.  He must have been captured almost immediately. 

I had been on reconnaissance.  I had disposed of the gate guards with a device of the Maki Tanum’s sent through the gate first, and was moving about with relative freedom when I heard my name being called at the edge of a small settlement outside the temple. 

It was my husband’s voice.  ‘Chanah, if you do not surrender, they will begin to shoot the children.  Please.’  He stood amidst armed Jaffa aiming staff weapons at a group of children. 

In my heart, I knew it was all wrong.  But I could not chance it.  I could play along and be captured and still release the toxin.  So cautiously I came forward.  Before I was close enough to release the toxin effectively, my husband spoke again. 

‘Chanah, I am sorry.  They know about the toxin.  If you release it, at the first sign of illness they shall kill these children and then all the others.’ 

So much for my secret weapon.   I would not risk the children and he knew it.  And he’d let the Goa’uld know it.  I had my suspicions then, but could not act upon them.  The Jaffa were sent to bind my hands and feet and confiscate my staff.  But they did not slap the shackles upon my wrists in the arrogant manner I knew.  They tightened them into my flesh until my skin bled and my circulation was impeded.   It was then that I was certain my husband had been taken as a host.  Only he would know that I had learned the tricks of the traveling performers in escaping bindings.  This was not something he would have disclosed to them in the short time he had been captured.  This was taken from inside his mind.   

You see my dilemma.  Even had it been possible to unleash the toxin as I had been bound, the children were at risk.  Yet I had still greater fears.  The Goa’uld now knew all that my husband did.   Of the toxin.  Of the coordinates of our world.  I decided that as the Goa’uld had not killed me yet, there was something else he wanted.  I waited for an opportunity to present itself. 

All present, including the children, were marched to the temple.  I was taken to an isolation chamber, accompanied by the Jaffa with weapons trained on the children.  I was unshackled and directed to remove all of my clothing.  I was then removed to another cell where I stayed for a day and a half with no visitors.  My husband knew that the toxin was stored in my clothing and that its maximum viability upon release was twenty-eight hours.  

I was taken into the throne room.  Again the children were present, staff weapons trained upon them and me.  I was shackled upon a table, hand and foot, again too tightly to slip the shackles.  The Goa’uld who entered was my husband and yet not.  His name was Petbe.  

There were questions asked about things my husband did not know, like how the gate on our world was protected.  How could the defense mechanism be disarmed?  I did not answer.  There was punishment for not answering.   Then he threatened to kill the children one by one if I did not answer.  I gave him an answer.  He killed one anyway.   This was not about answers, I realized. 

I had no defense, so I went on offense.  I baited the Goa’uld before his servants.  ‘Some powerful god, who needs to exploit children to extract information from a mere woman,’ I spat at him.  The Goa’uld rose to the challenge and dismissed the children.  He let me know he had much more fun in store for me.  

First, he would play with my weapon.  He was intrigued by my staff.  But he did not know how to fire it.  My husband had never paid the slightest bit of attention to it and did not know its properties.  The Goa’uld declined my offer to unbind me and let me show him.  As he handled it, I caused it to discharge remotely.  He was killed.” 

“Sweet,” Jack interjected. 

  

“No.  It was foolhardy.  A burst of temper.  The sarcophagus undid that death.  I would have to find a way to do it again.  And now he was one pissed off Goa’uld. 

  

This man with my husband’s face stood over me and stared thinking of how to hurt me most.  A sick smile flashed across his face when he pulled the weapon from my own husband’s mind.  The baby.  He stabbed me repeatedly to kill it.  

Then he healed me.   I did not understand why he bothered.  

It was all for his entertainment.  He would torment my husband by taking me.  He would show him how a god takes a slave.  If I pleased him, he told me he might make me a host and I could join him as his ships rained destruction upon my world.  He then dismissed his personal guards.  Perhaps he did not want his performance judged. 

All I will say further is that it was his undoing.  My clothes were not the only place where the toxin was hidden.  There were more potent forms upon me.  My husband never knew this.   Minutes later the Goa’uld fled and my husband lay dead.  

The rest of my memories are those of a sleepwalker.  I slipped my shackles, retrieved my staff and held my husband’s body before me and waited.  I slaughtered his First Prime and two guards using his body as a shield.  They would not risk hitting him.  I just stayed there and waited for more to come.  And I killed them.  When no more came, I sought them out without mercy.  

I found my clothes in the cell where they had been left, and spread the toxin at its greatest strength throughout the temple.  I found two allies in the prison cells, Jaffa who were being punished for some failure in service.  I showed them their dead god and his servants.  They, and all the Jaffa, could either renounce their false gods or die.   I cured one as proof and left the other infected.  They were to take this offer to all Jaffa in the village with proof of the sickness and the cure.  It was they, in fact, who spread the toxin among the village not I.  To get the cure, all the stolen children were to be brought to gate and allowed to leave without interference.  The Jaffa were all dropping like flies by the appointed time.  It was so done.” 

# Chapter 17 - The Tinkerer’s Secrets

The Tinkerer diverted the conversation away from Dr. Jackson’s prying.  “Come with me, and I shall share with you the means of destroying the Goa’uld and healing the Jaffa.” 

Sam was happy to change topics.  The Tinkerer had much to share, and with his help, they could probably replicate a lot of it. 

The Jaffa cure and the healing patches were products of biogenetics many years ahead of Earth’s programs.   Plant tissue with amazing regenerative properties had been combined with stem cells and other DNA of either humans or Jaffa.  The plant’s tissue acted as an accelerant in the process.  The plant was abundant on this planet and Sam saw no reason why it could not be grown or cultured on Earth.   

To Sam’s surprise, the Tinkerer revealed the toxin also utilized the same regenerative plant tissue.  But it was adapted so that the regenerative effect was a destructive one.  The toxin once released actively targets the unique DNA structure of the Goa’uld and when it is found replicates itself rapidly, destroying the creature quickly.  

Sam asked about dispersal of the toxin.  The Tinkerer explained the toxin may be delivered in several forms which can be released immediately, by a time delay or in response to certain actions.  

“For instance, Chanah can merely press upon a capsule to release the toxin immediately.  Or using another form of capsule, she can press to activate a timed dissolution of the capsule covering.  Then there is a third form which has saved Chanah’s life on more than one occasion.   Using a transdermal patch, the encapsulated toxin can be placed inside the body.    Should any object penetrate that area of the body, the toxin is released in a form that is nearly explosive in its deadliness.” 

“So if I correctly understand what you’re saying, if a transdermal patch was placed on the back of the neck and then a Goa’uld attempted to take the person as a host, the Goa’uld would be quickly killed?”  Carter queried with excitement. 

“That is one very useful application.” 

“It would be a one time deal, though, right?  Reapplication would be necessary if it was activated.” 

“Absolutely.  But the process is fast and easy.” 

“Colonel O’Neill will go to the head of the line for a lifetime supply of those.” 

“It can be done.” 

“How long does the toxin last?” 

“The toxin once released must make physical contact with living tissue of some sort within an hour of its release or it becomes inert.  Once attached to living tissue of a person – human or Jaffa – the toxin will survive on that tissue for as long as 28 hours.   It will readily spread from person to person during that time.  If the toxin successfully attaches to tissue with Goa’uld DNA in those 28 hours, the viability period begins anew thanks to the effects of the accelerative material,” explained the Tinkerer. 

“Does Chanah’s staff ever carry the toxin?”  

“It has been tried, but with success only once.   If the staff is discharged or absorbs fire from other energy weapons, the toxin is destroyed.  So it is not an efficient means of dispersal.” 

“I’m curious.  With this toxin, the larva and the Goa’uld flee the bodies.  We’d seen a bug that we thought might be similar to this, but in those cases the larva and Goa’uld died inside the hosts and were absorbed,” Sam explained. 

“You speak of Machello?” 

“You know him?”  Daniel asked with surprise.  He had quite some experiences thanks to Machello. 

“He was my uncle.  I worked with him for many years.  I was offworld gathering materials for our work when the Goa’uld wiped out our entire civilization.  I believed him dead.  Is he not?” 

“He is now.  But we met him, and had some unpleasant experiences with his Goa’uld killing bugs.  Your toxin, is it based on his?”  Sam queried. 

“Yes and no.  They once had a common origin but now there are many differences in the chemical structure and delivery system.  I have also developed methods to regulate the speed with which the toxin acts, depending on the application.  This was necessary to afford time to cure willing Jaffa.” 

“Machello’s bugs affected humans, drove them crazy in fact, even if there was no Goa’uld present.”  Sam implicitly asked the question on everyone’s mind after their bad Machello experience. 

“These do not.  While the toxin can survive for some time on a human, it has no adverse effect.  It only attacks Goa’uld DNA.” 

“That’s a definite improvement from my perspective.”  Daniel meant it, too. 

“But Machello’s bugs didn’t kill the hosts.”   

“That’s right,” Sam added, “the human hosts outlived the Goa’ulds.  And in the bodies of the Linvris, the Goa’ulds didn’t flee the body, but appeared to have been absorbed by it.  Only a protein marker of the Goa’uld was left in the bodies.” 

“The hosts survived?”  The Tinkerer looked taken aback. 

“Well, yes and no,” Sam explained.  “The hosts were dead, but they appeared to have survived the symbiotes for some time before dying.” 

“How did they die?” 

“Well, we’re not exactly sure.  There were no obvious signs of wound or infection.  They were found in a locked room.  We theorized probable starvation.” 

“I think that unlikely.  The damage that a Goa’uld could inflict on the central nervous system during death throes is too great.  What would remain would not be functionally human.” 

“But it’s possible, isn’t it?”  Daniel proffered still holding out hope for others like Sha’uri. 

“I could not say.  In these respects, this toxin differs.  It acts quickly and explosively upon the Goa’uld.  The Goa’uld flees the body as a matter of instinct and self preservation.  On its way out, the host’s mind would be damaged beyond repair.”    

“But could your toxin be modified so that the host could survive?”  Daniel was not going to let up.   

The Tinkerer looked annoyed.  “My uncle perhaps thought so.  But it does not appear that it proved the case from what you say.” 

“You’re not answering my question,” Daniel pressed. 

“Dr. Jackson, I tell you honestly that I do not know if it is possible.  I have not pursued it.  I will not.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I am of the mind that it should not be done.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Dr. Jackson, we are in the middle of a war across the galaxy.  The toxin I have created is a weapon.  Its application is in the field.  Chanah risks her life daily to eliminate the threat of the Goa’uld with it.   The toxin must be fast and effective to be of any use.  To save the host that would have to be changed.  It is not a reasonable risk to shift to the warrior.   The host, on the other hand, is already so compromised that his survival may not even be desired.” 

“By whom?”  Daniel was taking this personally. 

“By the host, himself, Dr. Jackson!  You are not the only one whose loved one has been taken as a host.  If it were you, if you were forced to commit atrocities beyond your imagination, would you want to live?  Or would you beg your friends to kill you first?” 

Daniel shrugged.  He had wanted so much to save Sha’uri.  But at the time, there had been no real way.  Teal’c had done the right thing.  When Sha’uri came to him after, she had told him as much.   Daniel only knew of two hosts who physically survived separation:  Skaara, using the technology lost with the dead Tollans and helped by the Tok’ra, and Kendra, saved by Thor’s Hammer.   The emotional scars left were great.   But were they insurmountable?   “I guess that I would want a choice.” 

“I know what my son’s choice would have been, Dr. Jackson.  Chanah knew his choice.  He would not have wished to live.  He would have chosen to go to the next path free of his burden.”  

“Daniel Jackson, it is war.  Collateral damage while undesirable is unavoidable.”  Teal’c threw Daniel an almost angry look for moralizing to the Tinkerer, a man who’d lost his entire family and civilization and then a second family to the Goa’uld.  Sometimes Daniel did not know when to dismount his elevated equine. 

“Speaking of which,” Sam interposed uncertain if this was the right time, “do you know of the Tok’ra?” 

“I do not.”  

“They are host and symbiote by free choice.  They share the body and the mind equally.  They are peaceful and allied with us in the war against the Goa’uld.  My father is Tok’ra.  Is there any way to protect them from this toxin?” 

“A peaceful Goa’uld?  I would doubt it and would never trust one.”  

“It is true, Maki Tanum.”  Teal’c’s delivery somehow insured the truth of the fact more than Sam’s impassioned words. 

“They live communally.  If this toxin were somehow unleashed on them, they could be wiped out.  There must be some way to protect them,” urged Sam. 

“At this time, I can think of none.   I will consider it.  In the meantime, since they are allies, could you not just advise them of where you use it and direct them to stay clear for the viability period?”  

“Indeed, we could.  That solution would be met with their displeasure, however,” Teal’c noted wryly. 

“And I cannot solve everyone’s problems, especially in a day.”  The Maki Tanum grew weary.  No wonder Chanah preferred to work by herself, he thought.  The moralizing of the two scientists, Carter and Jackson, could give one a headache.   

“Tomorrow, I will share with you other technologies including plans for the decontamination chamber if you wish it.  Given your alliance with the Tok’ra, you may not wish to take full advantage of this system.”  

# Chapter 18 – Shields of Armor Drop 

Jack sat back speechless, eyes cast downward.  Chanah’s composure was never lost telling the tale.  No tear was spilled; no anger exploded.   She’d stayed hidden in the safety of that numb, zombie state.  He understood why.  What would it take him to recover from something like that?  He wasn’t sure anything would and it sure wouldn’t be in a year.  Maybe he’d been too full of himself.  Maybe her choice to go forward with reckless abandon for her own life was rational.   It wasn’t like she was planning to blow up a planet full of people.  Maybe there is a point where there just is too much pain to continue.   Who was he to judge?   Not Daniel.  Deep thoughts raced through his mind, but something else came out his mouth. 

“Okaaay, you win the black hole in space award for that one.” 

“You think?” she snapped back archly.  “What about Baal?” 

Jack sighed inwardly in relief.  The maudliness of Chanah’s own story had not been lost on her.  She was ready to beat a hasty retreat from it. 

“Well, that was bad.  But it was just me.” 

How far would she go to get away from her story, Jack wondered.  Humor, Jack, childish humor is your talent.  Some one-upmanship, perhaps.  She’d just opened that door for that. 

“I might be able to take you on scars.  Want to compare?”  Jack took a risk. 

“Why not?” 

Maybe Chanah just needed to speak the tale out loud.  Not to emote all over the place.  Just to let what happened be real and not pretend it was otherwise by trying to seal it in a box that could not hold it.  

“Face first?” Jack suggested. 

            

“Okay.  You start.” 

He pointed to the quarter size round on the right side of his head.  “Memory device used by those two scumsucking snakeheads, Hathor and Apophis.  Hurts like hell going in and out.  Makes you relive your worst memories.” 

She pulled back her hair to reveal a horizontal three inch line at the top of her forehead.  “Knife.  Goa’uld named Pathos.  Tried to scalp me.  Gone with short hair ever since.” 

Jack went for a softball, his left eye.  “Hockey stick.  Junior league.” 

“What kind of weapon is a hockey stick?” 

“Child’s plaything.  Really.” 

Her turn, again.  Her upper left eye.  “Staff weapon, butt end.  Still see stars in that eye sometimes.” 

Jack pointed to his lower left eye, an arcing scar.  “Ducking from Heru-ur’s Jaffa.” 

Chanah pointed to the two inch scar that ran along her upper right cheekbone. “Courtesy of Bim’lac.” 

“Thought he was a friend.” 

“A very good one.  He knew the Goa’uld prefer unblemished faces for hosts and personal servants.  Neck?” 

Jack paused before responding.  He wasn’t sure how’d she’d react to that one.  He was afraid she’d go back to the deep dark place. 

“One brief shining moment as a host.  Slimy snake was freeze-dried before it took control.” 

Chanah touched the scar, and gently shook her head, “How?”  

“Cryogenic chamber.”  

“Then the host can be separated from the Goa’uld?  There might have been a way.”  Chanah was readying to dive into the pit of despair. 

“Nah.  If the snakehead had fully blended with me, it would have ripped my brain to shreds on the way out.”  

“Are you sure it didn’t?”  Chanah jabbed.  She was relieved to discover there hadn’t been a way to save her husband, not that she even had that option at the time. 

“Me, yeah.  Couldn’t speak for anyone else’s opinion.  Your turn.” 

Chanah pointed to almost the same location on the back of her neck.  “Goa’uld bite.  It was his last.” 

  

They took turns at this game for a long time, injecting humor into describing the scars of some of their worst experiences.  Horrible though the events had been, as they moved from face, head, neck, arms, legs to back, Jack and Chanah got increasingly playful and even silly.   Jack and Chanah were discovering they were two of a kind.   And this was becoming some kind of bizarre turn on for both of them.  They had started touching and tracing each others scars without even realizing it.  

“Rear end?”  Chanah braved.  

“Truth or dare time, huh?”  Jack obligingly showed her one of the many holes poked by some less than friendly natives.  

“Now, do I get to see your six?”  Jack returned. 

“O’Neill, what is this six you keep talking about?” 

“Six O’clock.  The clock face has twelve hours.  Twelve’s straight ahead of your body; six is behind.  Your rear.” 

“Where I come from, the days are 28 hours long.  Wouldn’t that be my fourteen?” 

“Actually, clock goes around twice a day.  So show me your seven.” 

She shared some whip marks. 

“Chest?”  Chanah ventured.  

“No problem there.”  Jack had wounds and burns in abundance there.  She traced them.   

“Yours?” Jack ventured, wondering if she would and, if she did, how he’d react.  

“Wouldn’t that be my fourteen?” 

“Call ‘em what you like, so long as you share.”  

She did.  They did.  No more words were spoken between them.  Two grizzled soldiers engaged in scar foreplay and ended up making love in a cave in the middle of enemy territory.   When they were done, the banter resumed. 

“You win,” Chanah declared. 

“What?” 

“The scar contest.” 

“Well, I have a few years on you . . .” 

“So maybe I can catch up?” 

“Hope not.  What do I win?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“My prize?” 

“What would you like?” 

“Think we might have missed a few.  Could we double check?” 

From late afternoon into the early evening, they gently enjoyed and comforted each other, barely speaking.  Both were afraid to break the silence.   What was there to say, anyway?  It was nice just to be.  The rest, it was all scary. 

At last hunger intervened.  They shared a chicken pot pie MRE and the even less flavorful pebbly things Chanah carried.  They were increasingly awkward around each other.  Neither did intimacy well.  

Jack ventured forth first.  “So what do you know about this rock?”  

Jack could see the mere question returned Chanah to a sad place, but he did need to know what they were up against.  Well, maybe she didn’t think so, but Jack did.  A little to his surprise, she answered.  He believed he had worn her down. 

“Not much to it, so far.  All the activity I have found so far outside the gate is centered at the temple.  There is no settlement or community outside the temple.  All the Jaffa appear to be in direct service to the Goa’uld who rules here, Babi.  He has carved his niche as a service provider to other Goa’ulds.   He procures, trains and trades in slaves.  Most of his victims are children.  He also runs this place as a pleasure palace for himself and other Goa’ulds.  He is quite depraved.  The children . . . some will have been greatly abused.” 

Jack knew most of this already but still looked like he could throw up.  He deflected his disgust towards planning.  “What kind of security can we expect?” 

“The outside of the temple is well fortified and offers little cover.  I would guess a hundred Jaffa would suffice for the training and terrorizing of children and his protection.   But without entry to the temple, there is no way to be certain.   We know he has thirty-four less Jaffa than he did before.” 

“And two less gliders,” Jack added with some pride. 

“He will not have many more.  He counts on his trade to provide him security among the other Goa’ulds, not ships.” 

“So this will be an inside job?” 

“Yes.  There will be no Jaffa uprising here.” 

“No cure?” 

“It is not a priority.   Those who participate in the prostitution of children are unworthy.” 

“No argument there.  So this should be a piece of cake.  Toxin in; sick Goa’uld and helpers dead; children out.” 

“Perhaps,” Chanah offered without looking convinced. 

There was something in the way Chanah said it that made Jack’s neck itch.  

Of course, every time Jack had been led to believe a mission was a piece of cake, something would go horribly wrong.  Saying it out loud was a guaranteed jinx.  She would know that too. 

Jack suggested they turn in and head out to the temple in the morning.  “I’ll take first watch.” 

They were both too tired to go anywhere tonight, that was for sure.   Chanah shrugged at him, but her look left him doubting her intentions.   Nevertheless, she curled up by Jack’s side, looking too pensive for Jack’s taste.  She traced the scar left by Hathor’s symbiote on the back of his neck a few times.  It made Jack edgy, but he tried not to show it.  

“What was it like?” 

He wished she hadn’t asked.  But maybe it was for the best. 

“I need to know.” 

“I’d rather die than ever go through that again.  I’d want to be killed before I could do any harm.” 

“Even by someone who loved you.” 

“Yup.  As many times as necessary.” 

She kissed his neck, and then stroked it.  Jack felt an odd tingling sensation for a moment, almost a chill, perhaps of memory.   “It won’t happen to you again, I promise.”  She went to sleep by his side.  Keeping his ears ever alert for danger from outside, Jack studied her face wondering what she meant and what tomorrow would bring. 

Four hours later, she awoke and took over watch from him.  Jack protested a little, but he needed sleep.   He hadn’t had any the night before.  Chanah stroked his head to help him relax.  He fell into a deep sleep.  Jack awoke with a start, to find he was alone.  He wasn’t really surprised.  But he was pissed at himself for not hearing her go.  He was also puzzled.   She’d left her cloak behind.  He was even more puzzled when he stepped outside to stretch.  It was late afternoon, not morning; somehow she’d drugged him. 

# Chapter 19 - Tinkered Out

The second day with the Tinkerer was mostly of interest to Sam alone.  Neither Teal’c nor Bra’tac was big on gadgets.  A big clunky staff weapon and zats did the job, although there were some nifty miniature grenades that got their attention.  

The Tinkerer gave Teal’c and Brat’ac a log book of where Chanah had been and what happened there.  They copied a number of coordinates.  They could not help but notice how the nature of the log entries changed one year ago, from detailed accounts to clipped summaries.   

Daniel wandered off among the villagers, looking to add to his cultural repertoire.  He and the Tinkerer clearly had some philosophical divergences.  Like he and Jack, he reminded himself.   It was an age old battle between the real and the ideal, the soldier and the philosopher. 

Sam was most impressed with the Tinkerer’s miniaturization skills.  She estimated SGC team members could shed at least five to ten pounds of gear apiece, as well as the MALP, with his help. 

The only thing that disappointed Sam was not finding any large scale advanced weaponry.  When Sam told him about the Tollan ion cannons the Joint Chiefs had salivated over, he was sympathetic.  

“It would be an excellent way of defending the entire planet.  However, our people live simply by choice and are not terribly interested in technology.  The villages are remote, and traveling between them is difficult.  So it has not been feasible.   In truth, we have counted heavily on being previously abandoned by the Goa’uld.  Only the gate is secure.  While I believe we are a significant distance from any Goa’uld stronghold where ships would be used, it is not unfeasible.  Perhaps with your assistance and appropriate power sources, I could adapt the technology of Chanah’s staff to a much more powerful weapon to benefit us all.” 

“We could give you the technical manpower and the means to disperse such weapons around the planet.”  Sam was pleased to make this offer.  She was far  more interested in this kind of weapon than biological ones. 

“What about Chanah’s staff?”  Sam remembered.  “How’s it powered?” 

“Oh, that.”  The Tinkerer wandered over to a cabinet and retrieved a mate to the one Chanah carried.  “Its external design is a bit of play on the ungracious staff weapon of the Jaffa.  Internally, its source is an energy crystal.   Unfortunately, it is one of only a few that I possess.  I brought the crystals here from another world.” 

“Then we might be able to get more?” Sam asked hopefully. 

“I do not know.  By now the Goa’uld will likely have destroyed or pillaged that world as they had others in the system.   But I will give you the coordinates if you wish to search it, and would myself assist.   It would be a benefit to us all.  Perhaps there are other possible sources as well.” 

Sam’s hopes were raised and dashed quickly by his words.  But if more could not be found, maybe the existing crystals could be enhanced with naquadah or there were other possibilities.  At least they had the Tinkerer’s brain to work with on the matter. 

“Can you show me how the staff works?  There are no visible controls of any kind.” 

“To complete the deception.  The controls are pressure sensitive.  The fingers must be in an appropriate position to fire the weapon.  These are specially designed to work in Chanah’s hands alone.” 

“But I heard at least one story of how a Jaffa who handled it was electrocuted by it.  Chanah was locked in a cell nearby, but not close enough to touch it.  Is there a remote control of some sort?”  

“Interesting.  It is sometimes necessary to discharge an energy buildup from the staff.  Perhaps the Jaffa simply fumbled his way to disaster.”  The Tinkerer took pleasure at the thought. 

“There’s no remote mechanism at all?  What about some sort of automated retrieval mechanism?”  Something was puzzling Sam. 

“No.”  The Tinkerer looked equally puzzled. 

“Several Jaffa swore they saw Chanah’s staff fly across the room into her hands.” 

“That is not a function of the staff.” 

“Then you think they made that up?  

“Perhaps to cover up their own ineptitude?” guessed the Tinkerer. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing more to it?”  

“Not all things work by forces I can explain.  Chanah is special.  There is a reason she has survived as long as she has.” 

“Could she be telekinetic?”  

“I have seen no evidence of it.  But if she were, the energy of the crystal in the staff could magnify such ability.” 

“So it’s possible.” 

“Major Carter, for many years, the people of the Oneness have tried to show me, an arrogant scientist, that there is no more powerful force than life in harmony with all other living things.  After that, they would tell you, the rest is only a variation on a theme.” 

“Daniel would probably agree.  I think we’ll head back now and figure out what to do next.” 

* * * 

Carter, Daniel, Teal’c and Bra’tac returned to the SGC.  Master Bra’tac left shortly thereafter with a significant supply of the cure for the Jaffa immune system.  But until the scientists could further analyze and understand the toxin, he agreed to leave without any of it.  

Bra’tac hoped that by being able to show his fellow Jaffa the cure using volunteers, he could accomplish the same end as Chanah without the coercion.  If enough Jaffa were convinced, they could rise up and defeat the Goa’uld without the toxin.  The problem in this scenario was that it was not that simple to erase years of belief in and servitude to false gods.  For this reason, Bra’tac himself had removed Teal’c’s prim’tah after Apophis brainwashed him, forcing Teal’c to choose between freedom from the false god or death.   

            

And, loathe though Bra’tac was to admit it, there were Jaffa who would not voluntarily relinquish the benefits of the prim’tah or the ambitions they held that could be accomplished with it.  In these regards, he understood why Chanah used the toxin with the cure.  Even as a Jaffa, Master Bra’tac was not sure which path would be best in the end.  

General Hammond was pleased for Teal’c and the Jaffa.  He was also pleased at some of the technology to which they had gained access.  But he was leery of the toxin, too.  While relieved at the lack of danger to humans from it, bioweapons always seemed like a Pandora’s box to him.   If the toxin’s use could be contained and the delivery kept localized, then perhaps it would be useful.   And if it were delivered by shells or darts, it might protect the couriers more than Chanah’s means had.   As the SGC had demonstrated to the Asguard, projectile weaponry may be primitive but still effective.   One thing was certain, he wanted the scientists to have a good, hard look at the stuff before authorizing its use in the field or its production on Earth.     

General Hammond was disappointed that the Tinkerer’s energy staff couldn’t be duplicated or adapted readily.  While he hadn’t any real expectations of big guns from this mission, they could always use more energy-based weapons, especially ones more accurate than the Jaffa staff weapon.  Hammond definitely wanted follow up on the energy crystals as soon as possible.   The possibility of planet-wide defense weaponry being made from them was compelling.    

The only hesitation to sending SG-1 to do the follow up was Jack, or the lack of Jack.  General Hammond had complete confidence in Major Carter’s ability to lead a mission, but was concerned with the team being unwilling to go or distracted by Jack’s missing status.  Over their protests, the general ordered them to stand down until a probe could be sent to the planet where the crystals originated.   If the risk was deemed acceptable, SG-1 minus Jack would go quickly.  

Speaking to SG-1’s protests, he explained that if search and rescue was necessary for Jack, it wasn’t necessary for SG-1 to do it.  Had he been pressed, he might have told them S&R might not be coming at all.  Jack fulfilled his mission and should have returned.  As fine a 2IC as he was, this was a serious breach.   Jack’s personal agenda didn’t warrant putting other SGC officers at risk.  Jack knew that too, but had chosen to stay behind anyway.  

In any event, it was only the third day since they’d left Jack on P3R-014.  Remote views of the gate using the Tinkerer’s miniature probes showed that it remained heavily guarded.  The SGC would continue to check daily.  But unless something changed, Jack would have to wait several more days – until the seventh day when help had been agreed to be sent.  SG-1 had other goals to accomplish of more direct benefit to Earth. 

            

              

# Chapter 20 – Left Behind

Chanah moved along quickly trying to put time between Jack and her.  She hadn’t wished to put his life at risk yesterday.  Today she wished it even less.  This had all gotten so complicated suddenly.  

And, Chanah thought, it sucked.  It all could have been easy.  But SG-1’s showing up when they did changed everything.  

On arrival, Chanah had knocked out the gate guards with shock grenades, then triple zatted them into oblivion.   She could have left the toxin on their dead bodies and hoped it might spread among the Jaffa and ultimately the Goa’uld.  But not knowing the lay of the land yet, whether there were villages of Jaffa nearby in which the cure need be administered, the Uncertainty Principle left that approach wanting.  Too much could go wrong.   She wanted to do recon first. 

As it turned out, she was right.   The temple was so far from the gate that most travel to and from the gate was by transports.   Jaffa bivouacked near the gate rotated guard duty; they were not good candidates for spreading the toxin to the temple.  She’d killed and disintegrated them too.   

Her scouting turned up no villages or settlements of any kind outside the temple.   Once she’d reached the temple she saw it would be difficult to penetrate given the lack of cover.  Using one of the Tinkerer’s probes to overhear conversations on the grounds of the temple, Chanah learned that a party of Jaffa was to arrive the next day with a group of abducted children and would call for a transport upon arrival.  She doubled back to the gate intending to spread the toxin among that group, who would then take it inside the temple.  The sooner the toxin started working the less abuse her body would have to take when she arrived at the temple.   Chanah did not get off on torture.  She just accepted a certain amount of abuse came with doing the job. 

Then SG-1 showed up right before the children were brought through and twelve more Jaffa were killed.   She and SG-1 had disintegrated their bodies with zats too.  At the time, it seemed prudent.  Her mission had changed with the arrival of the Shol’vah and the Tauri.   She needed to pass on her information securely.  Leaving guards lying about was unwise.   And there was no doubt that the disappearance of the children would bring more guards eventually. 

After that, Chanah could disperse the toxin using the bodies of any guards they would take out when the Shol’vah and Tauri departed through the gate.  Alternatively, she could just go up to the front door of the temple and offer herself up as a prisoner and disperse the toxin.  Her safety became irrelevant once she had successfully passed on her quest to the Shol’vah and Tauri and escorted them through the gate.  But when O’Neill stayed behind and pulled her to safety, she’d lost any opportunity to spread the toxin among the eight guards left dead at the gate. 

Now there was another problem.  Ever since SG-1 had arrived, something had been niggling at Chanah’s mind.  While she slept, free of the morphine, she remembered what.  One of the guards she’d taken down after SG-1’s arrival looked familiar.  She’d seen him before.  She didn’t know where exactly but it worried her.  

She had known it was bound to happen sooner or later.  Her modus operandi could not remain a secret forever.  SG-1’s arrival bore that out.  And it was also bound to happen that among the Jaffa she liberated there would be future enemies, disgruntled Jaffa who had been perfectly happy as murderous serpent guards.  She believed one of those had been among the guards killed when SG-1 arrived.  But what, if anything, did he know of her ways and how much had he revealed to the Goa’uld?    

All bets were off now.  They may have put measures in place to thwart her spreading the toxin.  This meant the front door was not a great choice.  If she was identified prior to entering the temple, if the guards knew of her appearance, she might never gain admittance to insure the spread of the toxin.   She had few resources for changing her appearance at this point.   She hoped jettisoning her cloak might be enough for a lunkhead Jaffa or two, but she wasn’t willing to count on it before she was got inside.  A covert entry would be preferable, maybe at nightfall.  The problem with waiting for night to arrive was that O’Neill would be on her tail by then. 

As she worked on a strategy for entry, she was distracted.  She cursed at herself.  She was having feelings.  Jack had helped her to feel again:  anger, frustration, acceptance, humor and lust.   It was good and it was bad.  Feelings left her exposed.   Feelings distracted from the game plan.   When she’d put them in a box forever, there was little of her at risk – death or survival was irrelevant to mission success.   But now she’d taken that first series of steps towards living again.  As irony would have it, that hope was being dashed with a new obstacle:  whatever knowledge of her that Jaffa had shared with this Goa’uld. 

*** 

Meanwhile, Jack pondered what to do next.  He knew he’d made emotional contact with her.  Hell, she’d made it with him.  The exact course of events were not exactly part of a plan, but all in all it had been a lovely digression.  But the morning after – afternoon, really -- was confusing. 

Chanah could not have left the cloak behind unintentionally.  It made no sense.  Was she leaving him a message?  A present?  Or was there something else to it?  He knew she was not telling him all.   He wasn’t that dense. 

He weighed his options.  Option 1: do nothing and wait.  How a soldier like Jack hated that one.   But there were good reasons.   First, he’d accomplished his personal mission.  He’d done for her what Daniel had done for him:  gotten her to speak her horror aloud and to allow herself to experience feelings again, both good and bad.  The rest of the demon she would have to exorcise herself just as Jack continued to try to do to his.  Second, she’d already shown that she could handle this kind of mission herself.  On several occasions.  Not that he was her C.O. anyway.  This segued into the third reason for staying put.  She had the right to his respect as a soldier.  Jack thought of his special ops days.  He’d give hell to any pesky do-gooder who ambled into his operation trying to “help” when he didn’t need or want it.       

Option 2:  follow her and provide help whether she wanted it or not.  This option required some rationalizing.  First, there was the abandoned cloak.  It had to mean something.    Second, she didn’t have an exclusive on saving these kids.  Jack would have upped for this mission in a heartbeat.  Well, that was a flaw in his reasoning.  Unlike her, he had a chain of command and his C.O. hadn’t approved that mission.  But as he’d already risked that disapproval by staying, he might as well make sure the kids made it out too.  Third, he could back Chanah up whether she wanted it or not.  Jack connected with her more than he ever expected he would.  And while he was not in any way thinking about buying her a gold ring in the near future, he cared enough that he wanted her to have a future.  Maybe they could at least have some small role in each other’s future.   There were a few scars that still needed explaining, too, he thought with a chuckle.  Passion and lust were good reasons to live.  In the middle of a war who needed anything more complicated? 

Option 3 was a hybrid.  Follow cautiously, give her time to work, and play it by ear.  By the time he got to this option, he admitted to himself that he might as well have skipped considering Options 1 and 2.  He knew he’d end up there all along.  

He’d start on her trail after taking a closer look at that cloak.  There were no notes from her.  He found a pocket full of pebbly things.  Could be probes.  Could be food.  He’d pass on eating any of them.  There were all kinds of transparent films in different shapes and sizes.  Jack hadn’t a clue as to what most of them were.  

He examined the material of the cloak.  Texturally it had an odd quilted feeling.   His fingers played over it and squeezed.   “For crying out loud.  What was that?” escaped his lips as his fingers felt a small pop in the fabric.   Then he recognized the feeling, like popping bubble wrap.   He knew he’d just released some of the toxin.  And this cloak was like that all over. 

She wouldn’t have left that cloak behind without having plenty of the toxin elsewhere upon her.  Had she left it as a security blanket for him?  If so, was it to help ensure his safety if captured?  Or was it to provide him a means to help him finish her mission if she were to fail?  Jack was never that good at reading women in the first instance.  What the hell was the message?  

Then Jack reminded himself that Chanah was a warrior first.  A soldier leaves behind clothing or gear for more limited reasons.  To lighten a load – not relevant here.  Weather – irrelevant too.  To protect gear from likely confiscation – possible, but unlikely, since he was sure she had plenty more of this stuff elsewhere in her clothing.   To alter appearance?  

“O’Neill, you are a dumb cuss.”  He put it together at last.  She thought she’d been made.   She needed to lose part of her look. 

            

# Chapter 21 – Crystal Hunting

The probes sent to P8S-909 showed the gate and DHD in tact.   There were no signs of animal life apparent within fifty miles of the gate, at least not within the probing capabilities of the UAV.   Air quality was only marginally acceptable so the team would bring breathing apparatus.  There did appear to be some plant life remaining. 

Teal’c theorized that the Goa’uld had poisoned the atmosphere when they had abandoned the planet.  In the intervening thirty to forty years, there had been moderate plant recovery from the toxins used.  It was possible, but unlikely, that small pockets of animal life might have survived.   If so, it was probably in areas quite remote from the gate. 

Carter, Teal'c, and Daniel were given the go ahead to visit P8S-909.  To speed matters up, they requested General Hammond allow them to bring the Tinkerer along if he was agreeable.   His presence and direction could save them time Daniel and Carter feared important to Jack’s survival.   Major Carter left to convey the offer to the Tinkerer and would then meet the rest of SG-1 on the planet either alone or with the Tinkerer. 

The Tinkerer was eager to work with a fellow scientist like Major Carter after all these years, yet he was reluctant to return to a place of Goa’uld horrors that he had previously escaped.  He swallowed his fear, however, and went along.  If Chanah died, the Tauri and Jaffa would continue the fight against the Goa’uld.  They should have the benefit of the best weapons available.  He expressed no fear like the Tollans about misuse of technology.  His own missteps in the indiscriminate use of the toxin on the Jaffa were a personal testament to such a danger.  But in the end, he felt the threat of the Goa’uld – the billions they had killed and would continue to kill – warranted the risk.  

He would go with the Tauri to help them in the search for crystals.  He would even stay among them, he thought ahead, if he could improve the chances for his grandson and the people of the Oneness to survive the threat of Goa’uld invasion from the skies.  But first he would need to speak to his grandson. 

The boy was hostile to his leaving.  It was not unexpected.   From his view, everyone he’d ever loved left him to battle an enemy he had never seen, one in whom he didn’t even really believe:  a bogeyman.   Chasing that bogeyman cost the life of his father and took away his mother.  Now his grandfather was going to abandon him too.  What child would not feel betrayed?  The Tinkerer promised he would return as soon as possible and tried to explain within the context of the child’s teachings the greater good at issue.  He was not terribly successful.  But for now, it would have to do.  Better an explanation than an unexplained disappearance.  He faulted his own son, the boy’s father, for leaving the child to go after Chanah without ever explaining, burdening Chanah with the child’s full wrath upon his death. 

* * * 

                        

Major Carter and the Tinkerer met up with Teal’c and Daniel at the gate.  Daniel was fidgety, anxious to scout the ruins to unlock the secrets of this place.  Major Carter took an instant dislike to the place.  

“Welcome to the other side of Netu,” Carter said in a very, unscientific Jack-like assessment.  She caught herself wondering why she felt the need to mimic him when he was gone.  The air was foul and aside from the most scraggly of vegetation the land was barren and rocky.  

“Tinkerer, did you encounter any indigenous life forms when you came here before?” 

“I encountered a variety of reptiles, insects and rodents only.  I saw no sign of people.  That people once were here is certain; the ruins contain pictographs that indicate that humanoids once lived here.  But there was no evidence of an existing population.” 

“Where do we start?”  Sam asked the Tinkerer. 

“The crystals I originally found were in caverns beyond the ruins northwest of the gate.  I had not had much time to search them, or elsewhere, before it was necessary to evacuate.   We should start there.”  The Tinkerer pointed the way. 

Sam was feeling less hopeful about the mission now that she was here.  The MALP and UAV did not convey the desolation of the place. 

 “The Goa’ulds have virtually no technology of their own design.   Do you know if they have any kind of applied use for this type of energy crystal?  The most similar weapon they have to the staff you created is the staff weapon, but that’s fueled by liquid naquadah.  It’s not terribly accurate.”  Sam pumped the Tinkerer for information. 

“Many years ago, when I was last here, I do not believe that the Goa’uld knew how to harness energy from this particular form of crystal.  Even we did not.  Machello and I had only just found these crystals then.  We had no idea how to utilize them.    Those I took were only for research.  Had I only known there would have been many more taken.   Nevertheless, the Goa’uld were aware of our research on this planet which lies very close to my original home.   That may have been enough to lead the Goa’uld to collect or destroy the crystals here.” 

“That which cannot be understood but might be used by the enemy must be destroyed or taken,” Teal’c explained a familiar policy of the Goa’uld. 

“Correct.   For this reason, I hold out little hope that they have left much behind.” 

“It’s a big planet,” Daniel interjected. 

Daniel was the only one excited by the thought of exploring caves and ruins.  Major Carter was torn between the various possibilities for disaster:  collapsing tunnels and pockets of leftover toxin trapped below the surface.   

After about an hour’s walk over increasingly rocky terrain, the first sign of the ruins were evident.  Only, according to the Tinkerer, they were much more ruined than when he had last been here.  

Daniel was deflated.  There was nothing left of the ruins but small pieces of once great boulders bearing scorch marks of blasts from staff weapons or glider fire.   While he saw a similarity in the pictographs to Phoenician drawings, Daniel could not piece together more than a sentence fragment or two.  None of these provided insight into the history of this place. 

They continued on toward where the Tinkerer recalled the cavern entrance to be.  Either he was mistaken after all these years or the cavern entrance had been blasted until it collapsed and filled with rubble.  The only positive note came from Sam.  She was definitely getting some strong electro-magnetic resonance readings. 

“We’re probably going to need to bring in some serious digging equipment.  We’ll let General Hammond know at the next radio check.  Meanwhile, Teal’c, you and the Tinkerer continue to evaluate this area, flanking right.  Daniel and I will scout for other possible points of entry on the left.  Keep in touch.” 

It was tedious work, looking for entry holes of any size through which probes might be sent.  There didn’t appear to be any holes large enough for a person to enter.  That was probably just as well as the stability of the caverns and air quality below were issues of concern.  

Daniel was clambering over a rocky promontory when Sam heard a loud shout which faded as if moving away.  

“Daniel?  Where are you?  Daniel?”  Sam’s voice increased in volume.  

She heard a soft, echoing sound.  “Sam!  Sam!” 

“Daniel!  Where are you?  Keep talking.” 

“Sam!”  was followed by a series of coughs. 

Sam switched on her radio.   “Daniel, come in.”  Daniel didn’t respond, so she continued shouting.  “Daniel, get your air mask on A.S.A.P.!”  The electromagnetic interference was probably blocking radio signals to and from Daniel. 

A long few moments later, Daniel yelled to her, “Sam, I slid down a small crevasse that was covered by debris.” 

“Are you hurt?” 

“Mostly just my dignity.” 

“Daniel, seriously, are you injured?” 

“Twisted my ankle some, it’s not too bad.  Yet.” 

Sam could not help thinking that it was better Jack was not here.  Daniel’s propensity for injuring himself was a constant irritant, especially since it almost always was a result of not properly evaluating the risk.   He was one of those leap before looking kinds of scientists.  

“All right, where exactly were you standing when you fell?”  Sam tried to follow his voice. 

“To the right of the high spot.” 

“What can you see?” 

“Not much, Sam.  It’s dark.” 

“Your flashlight, Daniel?” 

“Oh, yeah.  Hold on.  I’ve got it here somewhere.” 

“Daniel, are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” 

“Funny, Sam.  You sound more like Jack every minute.” 

Sam allowed herself an impish smile.  “I’m coming up.  Let me know when my voice sounds closer.  Teal’c, are you monitoring?” 

“Yes Major Carter.  We will join you immediately.” 

“Negative.  Radio check is due soon.  Head back to the gate, inform General Hammond of the situation, and lead a team back here with rescue supplies.” 

“Yes, Major Carter.  What about the Tinkerer?  I will make much better time without him.” 

“If you think it’s safe to leave him where you are, do so, or send him around our way.” 

“I believe he would appreciate the rest.”  Teal’c headed back toward the gate.  When the radio contact was relayed by the MALP, he’d be halfway there.  By the time a rescue team with supplies was ready, he’d be at the gate and could escort them promptly back to Major Carter’s position.  

“Daniel, can you hear me better yet?  I’m nearing the top of the outcrop.” 

“Yeah, Sam.” 

“How about nowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww” Sam slipped right where Daniel had.   There was some sort of slick algae covering the rocks.    Perhaps she’d been too rash in thinking Daniel careless. 

“Umm, you’re really close now, Sam.”  Daniel said almost laughing as she missed falling on top of him by inches.   “You okay?” 

“My dignity is dead, my arm is likely sprained, and my six will be sporting some nasty bruises tomorrow.  God, this air is thick.”  Sam slipped on her breathing apparatus. 

“Daniel, the electromagnetic readings in here are significant.  It may not have been the front door . . .  Are you okay if I look around a little?” 

“Yeah.  Just don’t touch anything alien.” 

“Funny, Daniel.” 

Daniel could just imagine Jack bitching at the situation in which these two found themselves.  

Carter reported that they seemed to be in a twenty by ten meter pocket.  They were about four meters below the entry hole.  The walls looked wet but were not.   The caves definitely contained crystalline elements.   They may have stumbled in but the results might be worth it, thought Sam.  

She would look around further after she and Daniel taped up each other’s injuries.  As they did this, Daniel began to giggle.  “What’s so funny, Daniel?” 

“Kind of relieved Jack’s not here, for a change.” 

“I know what you mean,” nodded Sam in shamed agreement. 

# Chapter 22 – A Fortress Deep and Mighty that None May Penetrate

Chanah was about 100 yards out from the temple when the forest came to an abrupt end.  It was a large rectangular temple in the classical Roman style, with the only ground level portal visible being the front door.   There were some openings on higher levels, but no obvious way to reach them.   A wide clearing surrounded the entire perimeter of the temple.   Numerous sentries were spaced out next to large columns running along two of the four sides she could see from her position.  She spied at least two positions up high in the temple from which weapons were pointing at the ready.  They were ready for visitors.  There was no good cover.  

“Okay, Chanah, think.”  She was chastising herself aloud.  “You can stop worrying about that Jaffa you thought you’d seen before and go for the front door and unleash the toxin.   Even if they know about you, they might not put it together before they take you inside and the damage is done.  Even if you never get in, a guard carrying word of your arrival could spread the toxin.   Worst case scenario, you’re dead and nothing changes here.  O’Neill will follow later.” 

“Or you need a huge diversion.  Running a little dry on ideas there right now.” 

“Or maybe you could, heaven forbid, go back for O’Neill’s help.  He’ll be waking in a couple of hours.  I’m guessing he’s good at diversion.” 

Chanah never finished her decision tree.  She was zatted into unconsciousness from behind.  

An hour later she awoke to find herself in an entirely dark stone-walled room stripped of every item on her body.   Her wrists were shackled behind her so tightly they bit painfully into her flesh.  Her feet were chained as well.  She was, quite frankly, surprised to be alive.   It looked like they knew damn well who she was and what she carried.  

As she sat and waited, she saw in her head the guard she’d killed on SG-1’s arrival.  This time her vision was of him alive.  He was on that goddamned rock where her husband was killed.  Where she killed him.   Not only had she been made, but they knew she carried the toxin in her clothes and would seem to have an idea of how long it was viable after release.        

“This bites.”   Chanah was angry at them, at herself, at everything.  Here she was resolving to risk living again.    Now she’d be better off back in zombie mode before the torture begins.  Unfortunately, she’d have at least twenty-eight or so hours, a little over a full day on this planet, to think about what would lie ahead. 

* * * 

Jack neared the temple towards dusk.  While Jack was a good tracker, Teal’c was much better.  Jack had become quite dependant upon Teal’c’s skills especially in forested areas.  Plus, unlike Chanah, he’d never actually known the exact location of the temple in the first instance.  Sixty-four clicks from the gate, Carter said.  He’d left it to his teammates to tell him which way when they arrived.  But it had become unnecessary to go to the temple before the mission objective was completed.  So Jack just had to continue in the direction Chanah had taken the day before.  When he found the big honkin’ palace he’d be there. 

He found the temple heavily guarded as she had.  He was surprised that it looked Roman.  But then given what he’d heard about the degeneracy of Babi, he could see the attraction.    

Activity around the temple suggested high security was still in force.  Was that good or bad?  Probably bad.  If Jaffa were dropping like flies from the toxin, things shouldn’t be normal.   Jack thought it doubtful that Chanah could be out there still looking for a nice secret entrance.  That would be unlikely from what he could see.  Most likely she was inside by now, hopefully in control of the situation and not getting worked over.  If she was, though, his rushing in would not change that.  

But then, he thought, if Chanah had been made she could be dead, three-zatted into kingdom come to prevent the toxin from being spread.  Or worse, Jack thought, remembering the scenario of her husband’s capture.  If she’d been made by a Jaffa from that world, things could get a lot uglier.  He consoled himself by figuring that even if that was the case, she was not entirely out of options or time.   The Goa’uld would isolate her, and still want to play with her.  He’s going to want what she knows, her sources.  They all think they’re so bright, he’s going to want to be the one to end it.  Or even bottle it and sell it so the system lords can take each other out.   Sick bastards. 

Jack didn’t like his conclusion, which was to trust her and give her more time.  Plus he didn’t know what to do with himself in the meantime.   Darkness was coming soon.  He could possibly get close enough to the temple in the dark to start the toxin on its way.  But the trigger happy Jaffa might just fire at anything that moved and kill him before he got close.  Jack wasn’t anxious to die just now.  That was the opposite of his intent.   So he retreated into the cover of darkness.  He resolved to wait one full day for evidence that Chanah’s plan – whatever it was – was working.  To Jack, waiting was almost as bad as torture.  He accepted that he might not get her out, but he was not giving up on the children.     

            

* * * 

Chanah sat in a corner of her cell waiting unable to even doze against the cold stone walls.   She grew increasingly angry with herself.   She had again taken the walk of the martyr, but she really hadn’t meant to this time.  She was planning on coming out with the children.  Maybe even finding a path back to her own child.  

Now -- for all the good it did -- she could see there might have been a better way.  If she’d risked being honest with O’Neill about her identity having possibly been compromised, they could have done this together.  She didn’t have to protect him.  It was a choice.  And maybe not the right one. 

She could see the answer right now.  That infantile projectile weapon of O’Neill’s.  Modify the cartridges to carry the toxin.  A couple of well placed shots into the outside guards or through upper openings in the temple walls might have gotten the whole ball rolling without her ever showing herself.  She was spitting mad at herself.  All of the sudden, after a year of sleepwalking through existence, emotions of all kind were overwhelming her senses. 

She decided that at least she would put up one heck of a fight when the guards came for her finally.  She’d take one last good opportunity to vent her rage even if shackled hand and foot.  But even that didn’t quite work out.  

She had been made.  And it had been by someone who’d known some of the events of Petbe’s capture of her.  Five Jaffa came to escort her.  Three Jaffa poised their staff weapons at three young girls held by ropes.  

“At the first sign of resistance or a sick prim’tah, the children will be shot one at a time.”  

A Jaffa released her wrist shackles and ordered her to put on some sort of toga he tossed at her.   When she was dressed, her wrists were reshackled in front of her, again viciously biting into her skin.  

“Just not my day, is it?” she sighed.  Joking was about all there was left to do for now.  She would not risk the children. 

Chanah’s eyes stung from the daylight that assaulted her when they pulled her out of what turned out to be some sort of stone storage box on the far side of the temple.  She was roughly pushed across the grounds through an entrance on the side she had been unable to see during recon.  She mentally logged the territory as best she could for future reference. 

Chanah thought the news was improving a little when she was taken right to the throne room of the Goa’uld where she was chained by her shackles to two metal rings in the wall set, one above her head and the other at her feet.  It meant she would at least avoid that preliminary roughing up by the sentries and meet Mr. Glowing Eyes himself soon.  

“Don’t suppose I could have a pillow?  My neck’s a little sore.” 

She received a crisp slap across her cheek from the First Prime.  “You will not think it so amusing when our god arrives.”  

The First Prime and the four sentries retreated to the corners of the room keeping weapons trained on the girls.  The Goa’uld entered moments later.  He looked a little long in tooth and unusually fleshy for a Goa’uld.  He was dressed in a highly decorated blue and gold toga.  He didn’t carry himself as one out to conquer the universe as many of the Goa’uld did.  There was just something slimy about him.  

“It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting, you know.”  Chanah’s only weapon at the moment was to take mental control of the situation. 

“Silence.”  Out came a burst of the ribbon device into her head.  “You shall not speak unless I direct you to.” 

“See, now, I have a problem with authority so I don’t think . . .”  The ribbon device cut off the end of her sentence. 

“You will tell me what I want to know.   Sooner or later.” 

“Later.  Much later.  So much later, you might die of old age.” 

The ribbon device flared again.   “Where is the source of the toxin?” 

“Yeah, right.  Next.” 

He let the ribbon device linger a little longer on her head that time.  

“Where did you take the children?” 

“A far, far better place than they have ever been before.” 

The Goa’uld moved the ribbon device towards her chest.  She felt as if it would explode and halfway hoped it would.  Then it stopped. 

When she recovered a bit, she kept up the banter.  She knew she couldn’t keep it up forever, but what the hell. 

“Can’t expect a girl to talk if you’re gonna knock the wind out of her.” 

“Your insolence is great.  But eventually you will break.   I have lost no less than thirty-six Jaffa, thanks to you.  There must be great punishment for this alone.” 

Chanah looked at him quizzically as she quickly did the math.   She could only account for thirty-four guards taken out by SG-1 and herself:  six at the gate on entry; six at the bivouac; twelve with the children, eight when the Shol’vah left and two glider pilots. 

“The two who captured you and placed you in isolation were killed and disintegrated to protect against spreading the toxin you carried.” 

“Oh, thanks for clearing that up.  I was afraid you were just bad at math.”  Inwardly, however, Chanah cursed.  So much for any chance those guards managed to release the toxin by manhandling her and then infecting others.    

“There are some things that I cannot add up.  You will fill in the blanks for us.” 

“I kind of like blanks.  Blank slates.  Blank stares.”   She gave him one of the latter.  The ribbon device was returned to her head for that quip. 

“Enough,” the Goa’uld was already losing patience.  “You will tell me what I want to know or the children will be killed, one at a time, for each defiant answer.  When these are gone, more will be brought.” 

“Wouldn’t that kind of ruin your business – destroying the inventory, so to speak?”  

The ribbon device once again bored into her head, lingering still longer this time. 

“You might as well keep it there and finish frying my brains.  I won’t tell you anything.” 

“I know you will not risk the children, Chanah.  The source of the toxin, where is it and how does it work, tell me.”  Babi used her name for the first time to demonstrate he was in control; to show her he knew specifically of her and how she’d reacted previously. 

But Chanah knew she couldn’t give in to that again.  She was forced into a desperate gambit.  

“Okay, pal.  Let’s get this clear.  That crap worked on me once, but never again.  I can tell you from personal experience that there isn’t a kid here who wouldn’t rather be dead than living in this hellhole.  I’m not trading you new victims for old ones.  So you can kill me.  And kill me.  I’ve got nothing but time.” 

The Goa’uld aimed the ribbon device toward a young girl.  The girl nodded her head towards Chanah showing she’d heard her words and agreed with them.  Then the ribbon onslaught began and the girl started to crumple to the floor.   Chanah held her breath.  It was an agonizing decision.  But she couldn’t save them all, and she didn’t believe for a moment that Babi would really risk his entire stock-in-trade for her words.  Sounds of gunfire interrupted them all.  The Goa’uld stopped his attack on the girl.  He conferred with his First Prime and dismissed two of the guards to investigate. 

“Who is out there?  Is it the owner of that pack?”  Babi seethed at Chanah as a sentry displayed O’Neill’s gear. 

“Beats me.  I work alone.  You know enough about me to know that.  But there are lots of other snakehead haters out there, no doubt.” 

“There is a way I can know all that you know.  And it might be amusing to use the female body for a short while.” 

Chanah tried to conceal her hope brought on by this threat.  This Goa’uld did not know that she could not be taken as a host and that the effort would kill him.  She had not planned on telling him either.   She racked her brain to try and isolate what knowledge of her had and hadn’t been revealed on that blasted planet where her husband died.  

The guards reported via intercom to the First Prime that the shooter had surrendered.  He was being kept at a distance by the guards and would be removed to isolation.  The Goa’uld received this news with a look of grave concern.  “The weapon fire we heard, was anyone hit?” 

“Yes, my Lord,” reported the First Prime.  “Two Jaffa outside the walls are injured.” 

The Goa’uld looked worried and barked orders at the First Prime.  “Everyone inside and outside of the Temple is to remain exactly where they are until further order.  Every room in the Temple with an opening to the outside that could be reached by a weapon firing is to be sealed off for thirty hours.  See that the guards that captured our new visitor are disintegrated from a distance after he is placed in isolation.  The same goes for the injured guards and anyone who has come near them or the prisoner until the isolation time ends.  No one who is not currently present now may enter this or my personal chambers until further order.”   

Chanah knew it was O’Neill.  She knew, as the Goa’uld clearly suspected, what he’d done with his weapon.  He sent in the toxin she’d left behind by any route possible.   It was chancy.  Accurate shooting from a safe distance would be difficult and no one might be in those exterior chambers to be affected.  Then he’d gone and turned himself in expecting to spread the toxin like she had done in the past.  Unfortunately, that trick seem to have played itself out for now.   She cursed their luck; they had to find a Goa’uld with brains. 

In thirty hours or so, O’Neill would be the Goa’uld’s new plaything unless somehow he’d got lucky with the toxin.  Dammit, if she hadn’t walked right into a trap they’d have never suspected O’Neill at all. 

Babi was reflective for a short while.  “It seems I now have two prisoners who might answer my questions.  Perhaps I will merely amuse myself while we wait for this other.  But one good thing may come of this.  I may be able to spare my inventory after all.” 

That was good news, thought Chanah.  The children had been taken off the table thanks to O’Neill’s arrival.  Now she needed to refocus the Goa’uld on the host track.  That or something even less pleasant.  She still had a secret weapon or two left but first she needed the Goa’uld to let his guard down and think the idea was his. 

“I feel so thrown over,” Chanah baited him insincerely.  “I guess you’re just not up to the challenge of a little woman.”  

Babi was visibly angry.  You do not humiliate gods in front of their servants.  It’s simply bad form.  He came forward and plunged a dagger into her upper left shoulder.  Chanah grimaced in pain, letting out only a small gasp.   He then pulled it out and plunged it into her upper right shoulder.  Again she did her best to stifle her pain.  

The Goa’uld was beginning to feel more in control now.  That was all right with Chanah.  It hurt, but it spared the children.  And if the Goa’uld ultimately rose to the bait, O’Neill would be safe too.  

Babi then stabbed her in the left thigh, twisting the dagger upon removal so that blood spurted into the air.  Still Chanah buried her reaction to mere grunting.  He smiled.  This was a game he liked.  Quite a lot.  Then he buried the dagger in her right thigh and let it stay there. 

“It is hard to find a spot where new injury can be inflicted.  You wear many scars.” 

 He considered his next spot for a moment before he twisted the dagger out of her right thigh.   Again she fought to keep her grunt of pain as small as manageable.   But when he rammed the dagger into her gut, twisted it and left it there, Chanah could not stifle a deep gasp of pain.  After, she fought to regain her composure.    

“Talk about your swift kick in the gut.” 

“Perhaps we are two of a kind.  Pain and pleasure are much the same to us.”  

“If you think so, why not let me loose and see if I can give as good as I get?”   She had to try and sway his actions.   Humiliate him in front of his guards and the children.  Make him lose face. 

“Talk is cheap.” 

“It’s all you’ve left me with,” Chanah protested. 

“Yet you reveal nothing.” 

“Thought you had a cure for that.”  O’Neill’s arrival had definitely cooled Babi’s jets on the host business.   She was unsure how to get him back on track or if she could. 

“Ah, yes.  But I have a distinct preference for the male body in all my endeavors.” 

Chanah was repulsed but had to hide it.  She’d done something to protect O’Neill from being taken a host, but the whole taking it in the butt thing.  Ickk.  She did not want to think about it.  Nor would he.  “Well, my loss is his gain, I suppose,” she bluffed relief. 

Babi did not like that she looked relieved.  “I did not mean to suggest that I could not still take pleasure with you.”   

“That’s all right, really.  Wouldn’t want to interfere with your lifestyle choice.” 

“Your words say one thing, but for some reason, I think you mean another.”   

Babi approached her and placed his hand back on the dagger in her gut.  He dug it in deeper and turning it sideways pulled up a part of her intestines.  He bent down and bit hard into it.  Chanah screamed and nearly passed out from the agony.  

“I will leave you awhile to bleed to death.   Then we might resume our conversation in a more enlightening fashion,” Babi smirked. 

Chanah’s body racked with pain.  She prayed unconsciousness would come soon, even though she knew that when she came out of the sarcophagus, he would only start again.     

* * * 

Jack awoke from a zatting with a headache to find he was sitting naked in a dark stone cell shackled at the wrists and ankles.  After growing impatient waiting for signs of Chanah’s results, he had decided on a midday assault.  He figured surrendering would be safer in the light of day anyway.  It worked, sort of.  He was still alive.  As to the spreading of the toxin, he could only hope it worked. 

Remembering Chanah’s story about her husband’s capture, Jack had a hunch he’d be sitting here for a good long while with nothing to do but think.   He tried kicking at the stone walls in the hopes of finding a door.  He paced.  He talked to himself.  He talked to an imaginary Daniel.  He even called up, “Thor, old buddy, don’t suppose you’re around?” 

He could not judge time.  He had no reference to daylight or dark to help him keep track.  And he’d lost another damn watch.  He tried to come up with an escape plan, but that was pointless yet.  Sitting in a dark cell waiting would be Jack’s first round of torture.   

* * * 

Chanah awoke in the accursed box unaware of how much time had passed.  It truly was a sadistic monster who first thought to use a lifesaving device like the sarcophagus to kill and rekill for entertainment.  And a whole lot of other sadists copied him.  

Chanah tried to appreciate the brief moment of respite in the sarcophagus before it started all over again.  At least her pangs of hunger and thirst of the past days were gone.  Her head was clearer than it had been in awhile.  She was able to focus on recalling the details of killing Petbe.  

She needed to know what Babi could and could not know.  All Babi could know were the minimal details about the toxin:  its presence on her clothing and its maximum viability once released.   He clearly knew she was good at escaping shackles.   Babi might know about her staff, if that Jaffa had been in the throne room, but she thought not.  Even if he did, its discharge into Petbe was likely presumed accidental as a result of his mishandling it.   He wouldn’t know of any toxin hidden in her body.  Only she knew how Petbe was killed.  There was no one else present at the time.  This information and her wits were the weapons at hand.  She would have to make them count in the next round or two before O’Neill’s turn arrived.  

Chanah considered what to do upon her exit from the box.   She could try to take out the guards.  Their numbers had decreased to three after O’Neill’s capture.  No more might enter for as long as another day.  Unfortunately, as much as she might enjoy ramming and head butting, she really stood little to gain with her hands still so tightly shackled together in front of her and her feet still chained.  She’d done the math.  She probably had one or more sessions of torture to go before O’Neill’s isolation would end.  More if they were short.   Her mind counseled patience.  This is about the end game:  to release the toxin within her and kill them all.   But with her wrists shackled so tightly, she could not do it herself.   She needed to get Babi or his guards to do it. 

She was led back to the throne room.  She was disheartened to see that the young girls were still present; even if they were no longer threatened, children should not bear witness to such things.   She flashed a weak smile at them to show her spirit of defiance hoping it would someday encourage their own. 

The Jaffa again chained her by her shackles to the wall.  Babi entered.  By his change of toga, she guessed a new day had dawned.  Not necessarily a better one. 

“Lovely dress.  Don’t suppose you brought me a fresh one.” 

Babi nodded to his First Prime, who rammed his shoulder into Chanah’s left shoulder, crunching her clavicle.  It smarted. 

“I see you are no less petulant after death.” 

“Thinking of changing my name to Petulant, in fact.” 

Babi gestured again to his First Prime.  He repeated his bone crunching maneuver to the other shoulder.  A small grunt of pain escaped. 

From there it was all a big blur of pain.   

“Give me the coordinates of all the planets where you have poisoned Jaffa.”  

No answer.  A ramming in the ribs. 

“Who is the silver-haired man we have taken into custody?” 

“Picking on the elderly now?” 

The First Prime yanked her left arm out of the socket, dislocating it.  Pain cavalcaded through her shoulder down to her arm.   

“Where do you get this toxin?  Is there an antitoxin?” 

No answer.  A burst of pain exploded as the right arm was pulled from its socket.  Blessed unconsciousness followed for a nice long while.  

On her return to consciousness aided by a bucket of ice water to the face, another series of questions and no answers followed.  These were accompanied by a series of rammings to her hips, followed by dislocation of her legs.  And finally there was a blow to the midsection that broke her spine and led to hemorrhaging, shock and death.   Chanah was grateful for it. 

# Chapter 23 - Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

Several hours after their embarrassing falls into the cavern, Daniel Jackson and Major Carter were hauled back to the surface.  Sam had copped a couple of crystal fragments for her trouble, but she was unsure if it was worth the ribbing they received from the search and rescue team. 

The Tinkerer confirmed the energy signature of these crystals was the same as those he had gathered previously.  While these fragments were not in themselves terribly useful, he was pleased to see that the crystals had not been destroyed entirely by the Goa’uld.   They had been sloppy in their efforts at destruction.   However, to retrieve useful crystals would require the commencement of serious mining efforts.  The Tinkerer placed himself at the further disposal of the SGC when safe access to the caverns on P8S-909 could be established. 

SG-1’s exploration thus was cut extremely short.  Sam and Daniel needed to return and be treated for their injuries.   Both were embarrassed by the hangdog looks they received from General Hammond and Dr. Frasier as they returned through the gate.   SG-1 was now off the duty roster entirely thanks to Daniel and Sam’s rock sliding adventure. 

Both Daniel and Sam were unhappy.  General Hammond was still not authorizing an S&R mission for Jack.  There were three days to go before the seven days passed.   And even if a rescue mission were to happen, Sam and Daniel would not be part of it now.  For three days, they’d have little to do but sit and worry.  Daniel, with no real malice, hoped that Jack would return in one piece with an injury at least on the order of a hangnail.  He wasn’t sure he could face a perfectly healthy Jack escaping from a Goa’uld infested colony and returning to ridicule Sam and him for their sprains on a piece of cake mission. 

If Teal’c was nearly as concerned about O’Neill as the two scientists, he concealed it well.  To Daniel and Sam, Teal’c’s faith in Jack’s ability to extricate himself sometimes bordered on the absurd. 

# Chapter 24 -  A New Plaything

When Chanah next was pulled from the sarcophagus she guessed it was at least late afternoon or evening.   It was not going well.  All she needed was to be cut or penetrated in the right location to end this nonsense, but she was having a truly bad run of luck.  

Chanah was returned to her spot on the wall and left to wait a long time.   The Goa’uld was no longer deriving pleasure from this game.  Either she did not react the way he wanted or he simply was losing interest.   He figured he could afford to wait with O’Neill in the wings.   She went to work on the two Jaffa present while she waited. 

“Exactly why do you morons think this creep is a god?” 

“Or do you just like working for a snake who rapes children?” 

“Do you guys have to take in the butt from him too?” 

            

She went on, but these Jaffa would have none of it.  They were well trained, she had to admit.   They showed no disgust at her words and were unlikely to be turned to allies with promise of a cure.  Which she did not even have at the moment, she reminded herself.   At last Babi returned. 

He drew up close to Chanah, placed his hand tightly over her windpipe and whispered, “I admit you do present a challenge.” 

“Unshackle me, and I’ll give you a bigger one,” she choked out. 

“I think not.  Soon I think you shall talk.  And if you don’t, the other shall.”  He looked menacingly towards a set of empty rings on the wall a few feet from her. 

“Wouldn’t bet on it.” 

“Ah, but now, I know you are connected.  Two Jaffa who were sealed off in a chamber where his projectiles hit appear to have died.  He had the toxin.  He will answer my questions or you will.” 

“Think you’ll be disappointed.” 

“There are always options.  His body is a little older than I would like, but from what I am told it is tall, strong, firm and healthy.   These characteristics would suit me.  And I would gain all his knowledge.” 

“Crushing my ego with a rejection again?” 

“As a host, yes.  As a plaything, I am open to the possibilities.  But it shall have to wait a while longer.” 

The Goa’uld left.  He had gained the upper hand psychologically.  His visit was strictly meant to lay the foundation for a new approach.   Chanah got to spend a long night hanging against a hard wall waiting to see what it would be.  Her request for a pillow was met with stony silence. 

* * * 

The stone door to Jack’s black cell was opened.  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the first light he’d seen in at least one full day or more.   Five Jaffa were not the sight he’d have chosen if asked.  One released his wrist shackles, threw in a garment and ordered him to dress. 

“Not really my style,” Jack complained.  He earned crack in the back of his knee with a staff weapon for his comment. 

“Don’t you guys know that toga parties are sooooo out now?” he griped as he tried to figure out how to put the thing on.   Having no clue where he was, no weapon, and being more than slightly outnumbered, he’d decided to play along until it was time to meet Mr. Snakehead himself.   It took a lot of self restraint not to resist letting them reshackle his wrists. 

When he was brought into the room, Jack immediately took inventory of problems and assets.  There was the slimiest looking Goa’uld Jack had ever seen.  Jack thought he’d look at home selling cars.  There were two guards already present, plus the five who brought him.  The only other person present was Chanah.  Jack did his best not to react to the sight of chained to the wall.  He didn’t know if he could pull off pretending he didn’t know her, but he didn’t want to give it away yet. 

“Tsk. Tsk.  Decorating with rejects from the set of I Claudius.” 

“Kneel before your god,” ordered the Prime predictably. 

“You guys need some new lines.”  

The guards tried to force him to his knees.  “You will kneel before your god.” 

“Currently exploring atheism, sorry.”  

Even though he knew another crack of the staff to the knee would come, he just didn’t have it in him to bow voluntarily to a Goa’uld.   

“Who are you?” asked the Goa’uld as he looked over Jack like a piece of meat. 

“Would you believe a peaceful traveler from another planet?”  

“And what planet would that be?” 

“Don’t believe I’m required to tell you that?” 

“What are you required to tell me?” 

“Actually, that depends.  Don’t suppose you’re a signatory to the Geneva Convention?  Probably not even a Star Trek Convention.  So the answer would be . . . squat.” 

“I see I now have two smart mouthed visitors who intended to do me harm.  Secure him now.”  

Jack was chained to the wall as Chanah was.  Babi then dismissed all but the First Prime and two guards.  Jack liked the reduction in numbers, but would have preferred the change in odds before he’d been chained to the wall, thank you very much. 

Jack looked over to Chanah.  He was relieved she appeared unharmed although he could see dried blood stains on her garment, over both her shoulders and a more frightful one over her abdomen.  He flicked his eyes toward the sarcophagus and then looked at Chanah.  He saw her flash two fingers.  He blinked in understanding.  

The Goa’uld addressed Jack and Chanah.  “I’d like a volunteer.  One to answer questions.” 

There were, unsurprisingly, no takers.  O’Neill and Chanah were just waiting for the threats to start. 

“Then I shall choose.   A lack of truthful answers will result in the punishment of the other.” 

O’Neill and Chanah both rolled their eyes, and O’Neill spoke the thought aloud.  “Like no one saw that coming.” 

“I believe ‘feel it’ might be more appropriate.”  Babi came over and began to paw over Jack’s flesh in a way that truly creeped him out.   “Turn her over.”  The First Prime twisted her body to expose her back. 

Jack did not like the way this was starting.   He fully expected he’d be the whipping boy first, figuring that Chanah had already shown she would not break. 

“What is your name and where are you from?”  the Goa’uld asked Jack. 

“Dorothy, lately of Oz.” 

The First Prime cracked a thin whip into Chanah’s back.  She flinched but uttered no sound.  It ripped through her garment and a thin line of blood seeped through. 

“Where is the toxin made?” 

“The Emerald City.”  Jack said it earnestly but this Goa’uld was not a fool.  Jack suspected he’d already had two days of nonsense from Chanah. 

This continued on for about five minutes more, at which point Chanah started requesting specific locations for the lashes.    

“A little higher, I’ve got an itch on the back of my neck.”  If only they’d listened.  “Missed a spot on my thigh, fella.”  

O’Neill knew she was tough.  Seeing it in action helped him not feel too guilty over his failure to cooperate.  Neither of them would.  And apparently, by choosing Jack to answer, the Goa’uld had already figured that Chanah wouldn’t roll over on Jack’s behalf.  Or was that it?  The big question was how to keep them both alive another day and a half at least.  There was at least a chance for outside help to arrive then, his seventh day there. 

The Goa’uld continued his questioning.   Jack continued his nonsensical responses.   And Chanah continued being lashed with a minimum of reaction.  It was odd, Jack thought, how all three of them seemed to be growing bored simultaneously.   He didn’t think this would continue much longer. 

Babi nodded to one of the guards who picked up Chanah’s staff.  “Tell me what you know about this staff, its purpose and operation.” 

“Not mine.  Couldn’t say.  Looks like a big stick to me.  Maybe it’s a stickball bat.”  Jack regretted the lashes that Chanah would receive, but he doubted what he said mattered. 

Chanah now knew that Babi knew nothing about the staff.  But she was unsure what she could do with this information.  If he picked it up or got close enough, she could make it discharge.  But the last time she’d done it, things only got worse.   She looked towards Jack questioningly.  He nodded a discrete yes.  He hoped that it would at least buy them some time with the snakehead in the sarcophagus. 

            

“It absorbed the energy from both zat’nikatel and staff blasts.  What is its power source and where is it from?” 

“A scientist I’m not.  I only recently discovered there are no worms in wormholes.”  A head nod from the Goa’uld resulted in yet another lash across Chanah’s back.  Jack was starting to irritate Babi, and he hoped by doing so that the Goa’uld might switch his focus from Chanah. 

“A bat, you say,” the Goa’uld’s voice showed frustration as he picked up the staff at last, and walked towards Jack preparing to swing it.  Before Babi got there, however, a continuous burst of electricity flowed into him from the staff.  He collapsed to the floor, dead.  

Jack winked and smiled at Chanah.     

The guards quickly took Babi to the sarcophagus, and viciously rapped Jack in the head sending him reeling for a short while.  

            

When Jack awoke, he and Chanah were alone.  

“Did we bore them all to death?”  Jack ventured. 

“Close.  We’re just hanging around waiting for the snake to recover.  Think that was a smart idea?” 

“Bought us a little time.  Now if only we had some candlelight, food and a jug of wine.” 

“Talking about food now is real torture, O’Neill.” 

“Speaking of which are you doing all right?” 

“Yeah.  That was nothing.  I think he’s running out of ideas.” 

“Worse earlier?” 

“Yup.  But speaking of ideas, you do have a plan, don’t you, O’Neill?” 

“Nope.  You?” 

“Yes.  But the snakehead won’t cooperate.  Has his eyes on you.” 

“He what?” 

“I don’t know the Tauri terminology.  He prefers boys.” 

“My chastity is in danger?” 

“What chastity?” 

“Oh, I’m quite chaste that way.  Plan on remaining that way.” 

“So far not much has gone as planned.  But if it helps, I think he’s sparing your body for future use.  Like taking over the whole bag of bones.” 

“Ohhhhh.  We really need a plan.” 

“He cannot take you as a host, I promise.” 

“Can you give me something a teeny bit more specific?” 

“Just trust me.” 

“Then how about a plan?” 

“I am working on escaping the shackles.  The wrists are still too tight.  A few days without eating or drinking are helping the process along but not as fast as I’d like.” 

“Okay, so we have the potential for you to get unshackled, but not now.  Too bad, it would be a good time.  We have your magic staff in the room and my gear.  And soon, a few Jaffa.” 

“Their number diminishes with each session.  He doesn’t like how it’s going.  He’s keeping their numbers down to avoid losing face.” 

“So we keep up the smartass stuff?” 

“Could you stop if you tried?” 

“Nope.  They say when you’ve lost your sense of humor, you’ve lost everything.” 

“Ditto that.  Look O’Neill, I need to apologize to you.” 

“Okay, but make it quick.  We need a plan more.” 

“You are incorrigible.” 

“Yup.” 

“This could have all played out differently if I’d let you help.  I knew there was a chance I’d been made.  I thought I’d seen one of the guards I’d killed before.” 

“Yeah, well.  As the poet said, ‘the best laid plans of mice and men go oft astray.    I’m sorry too.”  

“For what?” 

“For the whupping you’ve been taking.” 

“That was coming with or without you.  Wasn’t so bad.” 

“I’m still sorry.” 

“Well, thanks for trusting me to take it.” 

“You may get to repay that ‘favor’ in kind soon.  No matter what happens, I chose to take the risk.  You are not responsible.”  

“Easy to say.  Not so easy to feel.” 

Jack nodded in acknowledgement.  “I want one promise.  Snakehead makes me a host, you kill me.  As many times as you need to.” 

“He can’t.” 

“Remember the best laid plan thing --- promise me anyway.” 

“Okay.” 

“So back to the plan.” 

“You’re not going to like it.”        

  

“Wouldn’t be the first time that happened.” 

“We need to goad him into trying to take me as a host or raping me.” 

“Excuse me.  That’s a plan?  I think not.” 

“O’Neill, it will work.” 

“No.  If nothing else turns up, we’ll just rag for time until help comes.” 

“O’Neill, you just let the asshole flail the crap out of me.  This you have a problem with?” 

“Hey, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.” 

Their conversation was cut off by the entry of the First Prime and two guards, followed by the exit of Babi from the sarcophagus. 

            

# Chapter 25 - My Babi’s Back

The Babi who emerged from the sarcophagus was enraged.   

He walked towards Chanah, and dug his nails into her back and pulled them down along the bloody welts, ripping them open more.  “I think she’ll be more uncomfortable on her back.  Do it.”  The First Prime flipped her around, pushing her back hard against the wall for good measure. 

Jack was disheartened that Babi continued to focus his abuse on Chanah.   But then the Goa’uld moved toward Jack and continued, “I would not want her to strain to see the pain I am about to inflict on you.” 

Chanah was equally disheartened.   The endgame seemed still further away.   And now she would have to endure Jack’s pain as he had hers. 

And that was really all any of it was about now.  Pain.  And the pleasure Babi derived from it.   He didn’t care if they ever answered his questions.  He had all the time in the world.  He believed he could know all either knew by taking either or both as host.  He would keep them alive until then, in one condition or another.  

“This game grows old and I have business to conduct.  I will afford you one last opportunity to cooperate.” 

He ran his fingers along Jack’s body.   Then he brought out the pain stick.  “It will leave no more marks upon you.  I should not like too many more scars upon this body when it is mine.” 

He rapidly fired questions at Chanah.  She either didn’t answer or answered nonsense.   She empathized with each bolt of pain visible in Jack’s eyes and mouth.  It seemed to go on forever.  Finally, mercifully, Jack passed out. 

Babi was anxious to conclude this business, however.  He had Jack thrown into the sarcophagus.  “His respite will be brief.” 

Babi returned to Chanah’s side.   “What have we left to do with you my dear?  You seem to care little about pain or others.  Perhaps humiliation.  The female humans I have taken often seem to care more about that than pain.” 

“There’s nothing under that dress that scares me, creep.” 

He licked his lips.  “So you say.” 

“Bring it on, jerk.”  Chanah regretted saying it instantly.  

“You are too anxious.  Don’t you wish to wait for your friend to revive?” 

“Up to you.  Don’t think he’ll care too much one way or another.”  She hoped she hadn’t pushed him in the wrong direction. 

“I think I’d like to gauge his reaction for myself.  I think by now he’s sufficiently recovered for the endgame.” 

O’Neill was removed from the sarcophagus.   Chanah, with her back and limbs covered with bloody welts, somewhat envied him his quick trip there.  

“Good morning campers.  What’s next on the schedule at Camp Scumbucket?”  He was pushed roughly back to the wall and rechained. 

“You two have put on quite the show,” began Babi.  “Now it is time to finish it.” 

“And that would involve what?  Running us over with monster trucks?” 

“I shall take your woman before you.”  He undid the front of Chanah’s toga and began to molest her. 

“She’s not mine.  So that would be between you and her.”  

“I do not believe you.”  He continued to fondle Chanah, but to look at Jack. 

Jack tried to control his reaction.  He didn’t dare betray the angst he felt for Chanah.  He reminded himself that she was prepared to accept this, but it didn’t comfort him.   Then Jack remembered what Chanah had told him and realized why the Goa’uld kept looking towards Jack and not his stated prey.  

“Excuse me, but I have one question.  Unless, I’m misreading Mr. TinkyWinky  there, you’re not even interested in the ladies.  So to whom exactly are you trying to prove something?” 

Babi stopped in his tracks.  He looked at Jack, at Chanah, then back at Jack.   “Perhaps you are right.  I should be true to myself.” 

He moved towards Jack and stripped off Jack’s toga.  Jack could not stop the cringe as he did it.  He looked Jack up and down.  

“Turn him over,” Babi barked. 

As the guards complied, Jack’s only thought was what the hell was he thinking.  Chanah’s was the same. 

Chanah tried to lure Babi back.  “Stop.  I will tell you what you want to know.”  

Babi was not to be distracted.  “You will tell me only lies.  I will learn all I need from him when I have taken him as a host.  But first, you will watch as I take him in a way that you will never enjoy.” 

Babi ran his hands down Jack’s back, and then moved his body in close to Jack’s.   Jack tried to push him back, but his shackles afforded little movement and it only seemed to excite Babi more.  Jack felt sickened as the Goa’uld caressed his neck.  He felt even more disgusted when next the Goa’uld plunged his teeth into Jack’s shoulder, and then again into the back of his neck.  Jack just wished it would end quickly.  Why did the freaking snake want foreplay too?   Jack tried to mentally brace himself for what he expected would come next.  But the Goa’uld suddenly writhed away.  He let out a piercing howl before collapsing to the floor. 

The First Prime and the two guards were transfixed at the sight.  They hurried to the aid of their master.  Chanah in the meantime used the diversion of attention to Jack and the Goa’uld to work on her shackles.  She relaxed her muscles to their fullest extent, but there still was not enough room to slip the wrist restraints comfortably.  But comfort did not matter now.  She pulled downward on her wrists with all the strength she had.  Her hands pulled free of the restraints, but the backs were stripped of large patches of skin.  Suddenly her staff flew into her hands, and she quickly shot the three Jaffa huddling over their master. 

O’Neill turned his face towards her, wide-eyed.  “What the hell just happened?” 

“You got lucky, O’Neill.” 

“And how do you figure that?” 

“He was a biter.” 

“You put that stuff in my neck?” 

“Yes.  I told you that you could not be taken as a host.” 

“That wasn’t exactly what he was aiming to do just then.” 

“As I said, you got lucky.” 

“Aaaah, yeah.  See your point.” 

“Good.  Then maybe we should finish up here.”  She used her staff to blast off the chain connecting her ankle shackles to the wall.  Then she took from the Jaffa the device to free O’Neill’s and her remaining shackles.  

He looked at her hands.  “Ouch.  Sorry to rush you.”  Then he took one of the Jaffa’s staff weapons and blew the door panel.  “That’ll give us some time.” 

“For what?  Let them come.  The toxin is unleashed in so potent a form they will all be dead within a few hours.” 

“We still need to get out.  And those hands could use a little bandaging.”   

“You don’t like my future scars to be?” 

“No, but I like the concept of your future.  Hope you’re warming to it.” 

She allowed him a small smile.  Jack was lucky to find some extra bandages in his gear, though he’d pillaged all the medicine from it earlier.   She was definitely going to need some stitching or better still those healing patches.     

“Think those hands can help with one more task now?”  

“What do you have in mind?” 

“Thought we might hang a little something to catch the guards’ attention when they finally come.”   Jack shackled the dead Goa’uld’s wrists and together with Chanah heaved and positioned his body against the wall so Jack could chain him to one of the metal rings.  

“Now you rest, and let me have some fun.” 

Jack dragged and propped up the dead Jaffa into sitting positions ten feet back from either side of the entry way, two on one side and one on the other.  He motioned Chanah to take cover behind the two.   She went the other way.  

“Oh, good, another one who ignores my orders,” Jack griped. 

“Orders?”  Chanah looked at him reproachfully. 

“Excuuuse me.  Helpful suggestions.” 

“I’m a little bit smaller than you, Jack.  One Jaffa will provide me with plenty of cover.  After all that whipping, it’s a little late in the game to get protective.” 

“Have it your way, will anyway,” Jack harrumphed. 

And then they waited for the ducks to arrive.  The plan was simple.  Jaffa come straight through the door, see the dead Goa’uld hanging and before they can react, ambush them from the sides.  Jack would zat away as fast as he could.  Chanah would use her staff on anything he didn’t take out or that threatened them.  But they didn’t want to kill them all.   Let the toxin do the job.  Leave some alive to get up and spread it. 

After two rounds of guards failed to penetrate the room, the coast was clear for an exit.   They first went through the Goa’uld’s private chamber.  In a locked anteroom off of it, they found the three young girls who’d been used to threaten Chanah.  They briefly spoke to the girls of what had happened, telling them they’d be safest where they were for now.  Neither Jack nor Chanah wanted to risk getting children in the line of fire.   They continued from the private chamber through a series of empty rooms, blowing the control panels as they went through each door.  

All they had to do now was wait a couple of hours.  The Jaffa would spread the toxin in its most potent form through the temple.  Chances were good that no organized resistance would be met in the chaos that would reign upon discovery of the death of the Goa’uld and his personal guard.  The head cut off, the body would be useless.   Only the children they had come to rescue would remain standing.  For now, though, Jack and Chanah believed the kids were safer away from them and any weapons firing at them.   

            

For a while they could hear the Jaffa working to get into the sealed off corridor.  But before they ever made it to the last chamber, all went silent.    

“O’Neill, I think it’s done.  Exactly how are we supposed to get out of here with the control panel melted?” 

“Mmmm.  Usually Carter takes care of that.” 

“Carter’s not here, O’Neill.” 

“Noticed that.” 

“Any other ideas?” 

“You don’t have any of those other useful doohickeys hidden on you?  In you?” 

“No. “ 

“You sure?” 

“Want to search me?” 

“Yup.” 

“Maybe later.” 

“Tease.” 

“O’Neill, you are easily distracted.” 

“Huh, you say something?” 

“Very funny.  We need to get out of here, and round up the children.“ 

“Well, if you insist, there might be a little C-4 in my pack.”  Jack was a master of understatement.  There was lots. 

Jack blew the entire series of doors, and the rest was, as Jack would say, a piece of cake. 

* * * 

Jack and Chanah secured the temple.   Not a Jaffa was left alive.  There was no opportunity to offer the cure to anyone.  The guards had disintegrated all the cure Chanah had.  And truth be told, if they had the cure, neither she nor Jack were too interested at this point.  Torture didn’t bring out the humanitarian side in either of them. 

The children were gathered together and shown the dead Goa’uld.  All looked relieved.   Whether or not they understood the words spoken, they all seemed to understand that they had been freed.  Jack engaged them in a little arts and craft project, and then briefly left Chanah and the children while he took a glider to the gate.  There were a few guards still there, but not for long.  It was less than challenging for Jack to mow them down using their own ship.    

Jack and Chanah decided to remain at the temple and await the help promised on the seventh day from Jack’s arrival.   The other options all were problematic:  transporting all the kids to the gate by ship would have taken several trips; it was a mighty long walk for the kids; Jack’s GDO was gone; and there was always a possibility of hostiles coming through the gate at any time.   All in all, waiting at the temple seemed like the best option.   Plus Chanah’s body was rather torn up and Jack had no painkillers to offer, not that she’d have taken them.  Jack was a little disturbed at how much of himself he saw in her. 

Their attentions were not on each other now, though.  The kids attached to them like glue.   The young girls who had been present at Chanah’s torture session followed her like groupies.  Jack attracted his own entourage by starting juggling, throwing or kicking games with any object on hand.   Neither Jack nor Chanah could provide the psychological or medical help that many of these kids would need, so they focused on comforting and distracting them.  

That night – the sixth on that rock for Jack – marked the completion of Chanah’s mission to free the children and, Jack hoped, his mission to free Chanah from her death wish.  It had all worked out in ways neither of them could have imagined.   Jack pondered the week as all of them camped out together in one room of the temple that night.  He and Chanah rested side by side, taking turns on watch, flanked by dozens of children.   “Very sweet,” he thought. 

# Chapter 26 – Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah

On the sixth day after Jack’s departure, views of the gate on Babi’s world using the Tinkerer’s probes still continued to show a heavy guard.  General Hammond and SG-1 were discouraged. 

On the seventh morning, more probes were sent through.  SG-1 and General Hammond waited with bated breath to see what the plasma screen would show.  They were ready for trouble.   General Hammond had softened his stance, and two SGC teams plus Teal’c and Bra’tac were on standby for a rescue mission.  But no one quite expected what they saw. 

A large sign had been erected in front of the gate.  

WELCOME TO CAMP DEAD SNAKEHEAD 

HOWDY CAMPERS AND VISITORS! 

DUE TO MINOR TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES, WE ARE IN NEED OF THE FOLLOWING SUPPLIES: 

KID FOOD AND BEVERAGES 

CHOCOLATE 

BALLS, BATS AND GLOVES 

CLOTHING (BDUS FOR ME, DON’T FORGET SOCKS!  SOMETHING FOR 

CHANAH TOO.) 

MEDICAL ATTENTION AND SUPPLIES (NOTHING TO PANIC ABOUT – THOSE PATCHES OF THE TINKERER WOULD BE NICE) 

At the bottom of the sign were hand drawn pictures of snakes and MREs with big red X’s through them. 

General Hammond and SG-1 chuckled and breathed a collective sigh of relief.   Teal’c, SG-5, and Dr. Frasier’s medical team were given the go ahead to leave.  The General agreed to let the mildly injured teammates, Major Carter and Dr. Jackson, go along if Dr. Frasier didn’t object.  She didn’t.  But Daniel declined, and requested a private audience with General Hammond first.  There was something else he wanted to do before going. 

# Chapter 27 - Daniel’s Good Deed

Daniel did not join the first “rescue” party.  He went to visit the Tinkerer instead.  He shared the good news, obtained the requested healing patches, and then set about wearing down the Tinkerer for permission to meet with Chanah’s son. 

After some hemming and hawing, the Tinkerer agreed to let Daniel speak to Micah, obliquely, only.  In his head, Daniel could hear Jack jest that that shouldn’t be a problem. 

  

Daniel explained to Micah that he was from Earth and that his people and his mother’s were descended from the people there.  Micah was scornful at the mention of his mother. 

Daniel seized the opportunity to explain how his mother and father died when he was close to Micah’s age.  For a long time, he was very angry at them and the whole world.  But that anger faded and now he only missed them and wished to have back any moment he’d wasted while they were alive. 

“What does that have to do with me?” 

“Maybe nothing, maybe everything.” 

“I grew up and had this amazing opportunity to travel through the Stargate.  On Abydos, I met a wonderful woman who I married.  Then one day, the Goa’uld came and took my wife and her brother.  They are parasites who enter human bodies and take them as hosts.” 

“Everyone here knows of the Goa’uld, how they took the children many years ago, including my father.” 

“When the Goa’uld took my wife as host, she was lost to me.  The parasite within her took over her mind and body completely.  The Goa’uld forced her to do horrible things to other people, things the real Sha’uri would never have done.  Had Sha’uri the choice, she would rather have died than lived that way.  But she didn’t have a choice.  For years, against all odds, I held out the hope that we could save her, somehow get out the parasite and return her to herself.  It didn’t work out that way. 

A friend, who I respect and admire, killed her.  He did it to save my life and others.  The Goa’uld controlling my wife was trying to kill me and was succeeding.   My friend chose to kill her and save me.  I was infuriated at him.  I would rather have died than lose my wife.  But the truth is, if I had died, it would have made no difference.  The Goa’uld within her would have continued to hurt many others. 

After she died, my wife – the real Sha’uri free of the Goa’uld -- came to me in a dream or as a spirit, and helped me to forgive my friend, to see that what he had done was the right thing.  She showed me that by killing the Goa’uld within her, he had freed her from her horrors.  Though I was angry for awhile, that man is still very much my friend.  I respect him more each day for his courage to do the right thing.” 

“What does that have to do with me?” 

“Your mother did what she had to do to protect you and your entire world from being destroyed by the Goa’uld.  Do you think it was easy for her?” 

“She didn’t need to go out chasing them.  Grandfather protects us at the gate.” 

“The Goa’uld could have come here by other ways, by space ship.  That risk still exists.” 

“I don’t care.  She was the one who chose to spend her time out chasing them.   If she didn’t do that, my father would be here now.” 

“It was his choice to follow.  Do you blame him?” 

“No.  If she hadn’t chosen the others over us, he’d never have gone.” 

“She’s saved hundreds of people from slavery and freed many children kidnapped like your father.” 

“She wasn’t here for us.  She killed my father.  I don’t care.” 

“Micah, do you know why your mother does what she does?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“Micah, there is a story told by a people on Earth who greatly resemble the people of the Oneness.  A boy fell in a hole in the ground and was injured.  He could not climb out and might have died there.  A stranger came along and saved him.  He said it was his obligation.  That for help he had once received, he must in return help ten others each of whom would help ten more so that good deeds would spread out like the ripples from a pebble in a pond.  He was one of ten, and by helping the boy, the boy become one of his ten.  The obligation passed to the boy.” 

“We have a similar belief here, but what does that have to do with my mother?” 

“You know your mother is not of this planet.  When she was a child, the Goa’uld came to her planet and killed billions of people.  Only a handful of children were spared.  Those children were taken to a Goa’uld slave camp and forced to serve those who took everything away from them.   The kindness of a Jaffa on that world kept your mother safe and alive until she was rescued with your father by the people of the Oneness.” 

“No one ever told me.” 

“Think about it a while Micah.” 

“It doesn’t change anything.” 

“Maybe you don’t think so now.  But when you grow up, you’ll realize the universe isn’t just about you.  Your anger will fade and you will realize that you had a chance to have a mother but threw it away.” 

“Maybe it will never fade.” 

“Maybe your mother will die helping others before you have a chance to see her again.  Maybe you will spend the rest of your life sorry that your mother died with her last words from you as words of hate.” 

Micah stomped off.  Daniel didn’t follow.  He’d so crossed the line he promised the Tinkerer he wouldn’t.   Daniel returned to the Tinkerer’s home and waited.  

Eventually, Micah came to speak to his grandfather.   Daniel tried not to eavesdrop, but noticed the words went from harsh to soft and took this as a hopeful sign.  The conversation was long.  Daniel patiently waited.   When it was over, Daniel wanted to make an offer to Micah.  Hopefully Micah’s talk with the Tinkerer would lead him to accept. 

# Chapter 28 – Not a Rock or an Island

Jack awoke at his usual insanely early hour.   He had an important personal item of business this morning that could wait no longer.  He had to get out of the damn dress.  There was no way he was going to be wearing that when his team showed up that day.   

Unfortunately, he was trapped in toga hell and could find nothing else.  He tried for about five minutes to tie a toga into pants of some kind but it was beyond him.   He settled for an extra t-shirt from his gear and wrapped half a toga around his waist.  “Very Braveheart,” he thought.  He could live with that for now.  

He looked for something for Chanah.   Her toga was in shreds and covered with blood.  She didn’t seem to mind, but Jack did and there were the kids to consider.   The only problem was that Chanah’s toga and her bloody lesions from the whip were now dried into a suit upon her.   It wasn’t going to be pretty removing it.  Jack got her to cooperate by telling her he needed to count her lash marks.  It was just possible she had overtaken him in the scar contest.  She rolled her eyes at him, but still let him help.  As Jack gently cleaned her wounds and helped her dress, he noticed a certain flatness in her reactions.  Jack was beginning to worry that Chanah was sealing herself off again.  

Afterwards Jack and the kids raided the kitchens.  Jack helped the kids put together a feast for breakfast.  He was concerned that Chanah would not eat and pulled away from the repast.  He thought she was unnecessarily hurting their feelings by not partaking.  

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.  A little sore.” 

“Whipping will do that.  No appetite?” 

“It may be a long time.” 

“Think the kids are disappointed you’re not trying their food.” 

“Oh.  I’m sorry.  I just can’t, not yet.” 

“Anything I should know about?” 

“No.  Just something put me off the feed for awhile.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like the skuzzy snakehead chomping on my intestines.” 

“He ate your entrails?   Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww, gross.” 

“You knew about this habit?” 

“Mmmm.  Daniel briefed us on the ancient Egyptian god Babi.  Seemed he liked to do that.   Kind of tried to forget it.” 

“I should be so lucky.” 

“I’ll explain you’re feeling sick.” 

“You won’t be stretching the truth.” 

“At least have something to drink.” 

“Maybe.” 

Jack sent one of Chanah’s groupies back with a beverage which she managed to swallow graciously.  When breakfast was done, they left the detritus behind and headed outside the temple grounds for fresh air.   Chanah’s spirits seemed to revive somewhat away from food, but Jack wondered how long she could keep going without eating.  It had been several days at least. 

Through the morning, Jack occasionally stole sly glances at Chanah.  They had done good.  The chance to do that was what kept them both going despite all the crap that life had thrown at them.   She was way stronger than Jack had believed when he’d decided to stay.   Like a train that couldn’t be stopped, even if its brakes were pulled.   But still he could see her starting to disconnect emotionally, returning to that numb state.   He rationalized it was temporary, from physical abuse and lack of food.    

When Teal’c, Carter, Dr. Frasier and the rest of the SGC team arrived, it was a pleasant reunion for Jack with his friends.  

“Nice skirt, sir.  Very Mel Gibson,” Carter commented. 

“You think my legs are as good as his?” 

“Couldn’t say, sir,” Carter said stifling a giggle. 

Neither Jack nor Chanah would let the medical team treat them until all the children were examined.  Dr. Frasier looked at Chanah askance, and then looked at Jack.  “Sounds like someone’s been hanging out with you too long.”  Jack just shrugged.   

After greetings were exchanged, Chanah disappeared into the background.  The presence of all these friends of O’Neill was a reminder of her separateness. 

Jack ribbed Carter about her sprained arm.  She expected it.  Carter did not for a second believe Jack when he claimed he was “just peachy” after a whole week on this rock.   She did not know his t-shirt hid some nasty bite marks.   When Jack learned about Danny’s sprain, he laughed and shook his head.  

“So many kids, so little of me to save them all.”   

Carter let him have his fun.  She was relieved to find him well, and pleasantly surprised that he seemed a little happier than she could recall seeing him in a long time.   “Colonel, you seem – different – somehow.  Anything I should know?”   

“I just love it when a plan comes together, Carter.”  

Jack was not giving anything away, if there was anything to be had.  She let it drop. 

After a while, Jack realized that Chanah had disappeared.  He felt upended at the thought that she might just walk off into the sunset without a word.   The gate was a long way off; he hoped she hadn’t walked to it because he couldn’t see her making it in her present condition.  He asked her three girl groupies about if they’d seen her.   In the manner of preteen girls, they told him yes, and then digressed for ten minutes.  First they had to tell Jack how amazing she was, and recount everything they’d seen Babi do to her and how defiant she was.  Only after that did they tell him where she went.  She’d headed back inside the temple.  

Jack’s hackles were raised.  It wasn’t that long ago that Ba’al had done to him what Babi had done to Chanah.   Even after Jack escaped, he had to fight shutting down from the horrors of that experience.   He’d come back from it better and faster than he’d expected, but only because of the tremendous support he had from his teammates and friends at the SGC, mostly in the form of distraction.   He was Jack after all, and he wasn’t going to share the details of his torture with anyone. 

Comparatively speaking, Chanah was an island.   She worked alone.   She was alone.  Jack feared she was bottoming out or else why would she go back to the temple.  He went after her. 

When he neared the throne room, he heard an almost rhythmic thumping.   He peeked in to see Chanah swinging her staff for the fences on the body of the dead Goa’uld.  She kept going and going, tears streaming down her face, until her hands bled all the way through the bandages and she ran out of strength.  She collapsed to a cross-legged sit and sat there rocking gently, the tears continuing.  Jack’s instincts were torn:  give her space or comfort her?   Having gone to all the trouble of finding her, he decided against leaving. 

He sat down beside her and hugged her.  “I think Skippy’s mostly dead now.” 

“Mostly dead?”  Chanah looked at Jack disbelievingly. 

“Let me check.  Never mind.  He’s quite dead now.”  Jack grinned impishly, shifting his eyes to one side. 

She looked at his face, wiped her tears with her bloody bandages, and shook her head at him.  Then she broke into a soft smile. 

“Ya think?”   

They sat for a few minutes, giggling and shaking their heads at the absurdity of it all.  

“What say we carve up his entrails for supper?”  Jack aimed right for the six year old gross out humor again. 

“Pass.”  Chanah wasn’t quite ready to make fun of that yet. 

“So what next, princess of overkill?” 

“Don’t know.” 

“Try some of this,” Jack said putting a piece of dark chocolate between her lips.  “No chewing required.  Just let it melt.” 

She complied.  “Mmmm.” 

“It’s chocolate.  Makes it all better.” 

“Going to need a lot of it to make that true.” 

“Much as you need.  Of that or anything else.” 

“I’m tired, O’Neill.” 

“A vacation then.” 

“A what?” 

“You know, you go someplace to see the sights or to get away from it all.  I’ve got a nice little fishing cabin in Minnesota.  Sunshine, water, peace and quiet.” 

“I’m not cleaning fish guts for a long time, O’Neill.” 

“S’okay.  Never catch any.” 

“Maybe someday.  But I need to go home first.” 

“Whenever.  Invitation’s open.” 

“Thanks.  Let’s get the hell out of here now.”  

“Let’s see Doc first or those hands won’t be good for fishing or anything else,” he smirked. 

They sauntered back side by side saying little, and looking like they’d been comrades for a long time.   When they arrived in front of the temple again, Doc Frasier made a bee line for Chanah’s hands.   She would not be put off this time.   

Daniel was waiting there too.  Jack slapped him on the back, just hard enough to make sure he lurched forward a little bit on his crutch.   “Gee thanks a lot, Jack.” 

“Just happy to see you mostly in one piece, Danny Boy!  Chanah, this is Dr. Daniel Jackson.” 

“Pleased to see you again.  I’d shake hands, but . . .” Chanah said looking at her mangled mitts. 

Daniel mumbled “ouch” at the less than pretty sight.  

“Chanah, someone came with me, someone who’d like to see you.”  Daniel looked in the direction of a crowd of children.  Chanah’s girl groupies were yakking it up with a preteen boy that Jack did not recall seeing before.  

Chanah let out a small gasp, “Micah.” 

“He wanted to see why you came here, why you do what you do.  He’s ready to try to understand.” 

Chanah got up, leaving Doc’s ongoing ministrations, one hand still steeped in blood.  She went to him slowly, with trepidation.  She was overjoyed he was here, but thought she would melt into the earth at any more of his anger now. 

Daniel put his arms out to stop either Doc or Jack from following.  

“Who’s Micah?”  Jack wanted to know. 

“Chanah’s son.” 

“Her what?” 

“You heard me.” 

“She never said.” 

“He hasn’t spoken to her for over a year, since her father died.  He blames her for killing him.” 

“Geez.  That black hole was even deeper and darker.” 

“Huh?” 

“Never mind, Danny.  You did good, bringing him back to her.”  Jack spoke to Daniel but kept his eyes trained on Chanah. 

“Yeah, thanks, Jack.  Looks like you did too.”  Danny wondered what had happened this week.  He could see Jack was elsewhere when he talked to him.  

Jack sent Teal’c, Carter and Daniel off to arrange a little surprise.  Daniel protested until Jack spelled out the word “O-R-D-E-R.”  In their absence, Jack finally let Doc Frasier privately examine his bite wounds.  It was the first time Jack ever asked her for a shot -- of the strongest antibiotics known -- and he didn’t care where she wanted to inject it.  Then he got out of the damn skirt into BDUs. 

Jack milled around for a while hanging out with the kids, and frequently checked his eyes back towards Chanah and her son.   Eventually, Chanah headed his way with Micah.  

“Colonel O’Neill, this is my son, Micah.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Micah.  Your mother speaks very proudly of you.”  Jack told the white lie without a hint of insincerity. 

“She does?”  Micah responded happily in the way that all children do when they are made to feel the center of their parent’s universe.   

Meanwhile, Dr. Frasier abducted Chanah to finish her ministrations.  Jack took advantage of the moment. 

“I know how happy she is for you to come here, to give her a chance.  She’s helped a lot of people like these children, who had lives with no hope.  You should be proud of her too.  She’s been through things that no one should ever have to go through.” 

“I know.  The girls told me.  Dr. Jackson told me.  It’s not that I’m not proud of her.  It’s just that . . . that it cost my dad his life.  It’s not fair.” 

“I know it’s not.  Sometimes no matter how hard we try to protect people, things go wrong, people we care about get hurt.”         

“Dr. Jackson explained a lot to me.  I’m trying to understand.” 

“It will mean everything to your mother.  She needs you now more than you can know.” 

Chanah returned from Dr. Frasier’s care which had been speeded along by Daniel’s obtaining lots of the Tinkerer’s healing patches.  

 “Micah, Colonel O’Neill was very helpful to my work here.  He protected my ‘six” so I could come home to you.” 

“On your planet, it’s a seven,” Jack reminded her. 

Micah looked up at them quizzically.  “I’ll explain later,” Chanah promised. 

“Maybe Micah and you will come fishing soon?” 

“On a different planet?”  Micah was already hooked. 

“One that sounds a whole lot like the planet where your mom was born.  You might even have some distant relatives still there.”  

“Excellent.” 

Jack winked at Chanah.   Then he signaled to Carter, Daniel and Teal’c, who moved everyone back a little further from the temple.   

Jack handed Chanah a detonator and let her blow Babi’s temple to kingdom come.  

“Sweet,” they said in unison.  

            

**The End**

  


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> Feedback welcomed; let me know if anyone wants a sequel. Please no complaints from Jack/Sam shippers; it just doesn’t work for me. Posting authorized on Gateworld, Heliopolis, Jackfic, Stargate Novel Archive, Stargate SG-1 Fan; other locations require permission of the author.  
> 

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> © November, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

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